Oakwood Close
by Kalsan
Summary: She'd imagined his return to Vegas countless times but never under these circumstances and not with someone else by his side.
1. Chapter 1

**~ OAKWOOD CLOSE ~**

 **A/N:** This is the only way I can think of to return to writing CSI fanfiction that is not going to potentially damage either of the 2 unfinished stories I have sitting here on this site. I have every intention of returning to both of them but I'd like to work out any kinks or rust that may have accumulated during my little 'hiatus' without jeopardising either Shadow Play or Sanctuary and so we have Oakwood Close. It won't be a long one, I'm guessing a dozen chapters at the most, and, given this week's news, it's kind of topical which is weird considering how long certain elements of it have been drifting round my hard drive.

I need to thank SylvieT for the (generally) polite pushing and encouragement that has finally gotten me to this point and also for the beta of this story; I most definitely appreciate it, my friend. ;)

* * *

Stepping out into the cool night air, Sara Sidle tipped her head back, closed her eyes and took a long refreshing breath. After spending the better part of two hours sweltering inside the tiny bloodstained apartment, the fresh, gardenia-scented atmosphere she now found herself in was heaven. She sucked it in, savouring the clean, sweet smells of spring that were infinitely preferable to the stale, metallic tang that she'd just left behind.

She rolled her shoulders trying to relax the tight muscles of her neck and upper back and wondered, not for the first time, if she should take a little of that accrued leave she had stockpiled. Apart from the occasional short road trip she'd managed to get with her mother and the even rarer 'girl's weekend' away, which never seemed to turn out well, she hadn't taken any real vacation time since the last time she'd flown out to Paris to join-

"You okay?"

Sara started at the sudden, unexpected question but recovered instantly and, opening her eyes, smiled warmly at the younger man who now stood by her side.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She shifted slightly, the paper evidence bags, still clasped tightly in her hand, rustling against the fabric of her slacks. "I'm just enjoying the fresh air."

"It was a bit…" Placing his kit down with a thud, Greg Sanders fought for the correct word, "ripe in there, wasn't it." He leant forward, resting both arms on the wrought-iron railing that surrounded the apartment block's second floor. "Not really surprising considering he waited so long to call it in."

"I imagine he was in shock." Sara shrugged. "By the look on his face when they led him out of here, he still couldn't believe that he'd actually killed her."

"Yeah well, there's not many people that walk away from a half dozen hammer blows to the head." Greg sighed. "Not that I've seen anyway." He stared down at the car lot below them; a couple of hours ago it had been full with police cars, both uniformed and unmarked, the coroner's van and their own SUV jostling with both the complex's residents and their vehicles for space but now the area was all but empty, just their Lab vehicle and a single patrol car remained amongst the miscellaneous sedans and trucks. "You know, this is the third domestic violence murder I've been to this month; it must be something in the air."

"Well," Adjusting the hold she had on her own kit, Sara turned to face him. "the economy's in the toilet, people are finding it harder and harder to get by and when times get tough, tempers get short – sign of the times, I guess."

"Perhaps." Greg conceded, a frown darkening his usually relaxed and open face. "But I'll never understand how you can love someone enough to make a life with them," he shook his head, clearly bewildered "make a home and family with them and then find yourself staving in their skull one day or stabbing them to death with the same damned carving knife the two of you got as wedding present."

"It can be a fine line between love and hate." Sara pointed out then, with a gentle smile, she attempted to lighten her colleague's mood. "And it keeps us in a job, remember."

"Yeah, I guess it does." Allowing himself a small chuckle, Greg bent and retrieved his kit. "You were married, you ever feel the need to kill Gri-" He froze instantly as he remembered exactly who it was that he was speaking to and the family history that she'd struggled to deal with. "Oh geez, Sara, I didn't mean that; I forgot all about your mom and - "

"It's okay, really; I learnt a while ago that there's no point in trying to hide from what happened with my parents." With an easy grin and a shrug, Sara sought to put him at ease. "It's part of who I am; it's part of what I am." She cocked her head back towards the apartment door. "That's not to say that I'm comfortable with scenes like this, that's never going to happen, but they don't affect me nearly as much as they used to and, to answer your question, no, I never felt the need to kill Grissom."

"Distance probably helped with that, huh?" Pleased and relieved that his question hadn't actually been the tactless disaster that he'd feared, Greg smiled. "Makes it kind of hard to harbour murderous thoughts about your spouse when they're living on the other side of the world."

"You're wrong about that, actually." With a wistful sigh, Sara turned towards the nearby stairwell. "If I learned anything at all from that experience it's that distance harms a marriage, Greg, it definitely doesn't help it."

Watching from the other side of the large vehicle, Greg's concern grew as he watched her turn pale and he quickly rounded the car to fall in at her side.

"Okay, yes." Sara's voice quivered slightly and she nodded vaguely as she spoke. "Yes, I'll be there as soon as possible."

Lowering the handset, she stared absently into the darkness of the parking lot.

"Sara?" Reaching out, Greg placed a hand gently on her arm. "What is it? What's happened?

"Oh god, Greg… " She snapped back instantly her free hand coming up to wipe anxiously across her mouth. "There's been an accident; I have to get to Desert Palm."

* * *

"I called the Lab and let them know what's going on." Handing the small polystyrene cup out towards her, Greg waited for Sara to take it before slipping into the empty seat beside her. "Russell said to give him a call if you needed anything."

"Thanks." She sipped at the cup and grimaced at the bitter taste of the vending machine coffee. "The nurse I spoke to said they'd be ready for me shortly."

"Did she tell you anything about…" He chose not to finish the sentence, nodding his head towards the closed door opposite instead.

"No." Sara shook her head. "All I know is what I was told on the phone." She shrugged. "That there was a car accident of some kind, two dead and one critical. She didn't seem to know any other details."

Sara fell silent, coffee cup held, forgotten in her hand, as she stared at the door ahead.

Realising she was in shock, Greg reached across and took the cup from her before slipping his hand around hers. "When did you last talk to him?"

"I'm not sure," Sara shook her head as if trying to clear it as she struggled to think "A year and a half?" She frowned, "No, it'd be a little longer than that I guess; I had some paperwork that needed his signature so I gave him a call to get a mailing address to send it to." She laughed slightly, an edge of bitterness lacing the sound. "He told me to give whatever I had to his mother; that she'd send it on for me." She sighed at the memory. "It arrived back two weeks later with no return address but a Florida postmark and a scribbled note telling me it would probably be best if I didn't try to contact him again." She chuckled but there was absolutely no humour in it "That pissed me off so much that I thought I'd call and tell him exactly what I thought of him at that moment but it turned out he'd changed his cell phone number and, then I discovered he'd changed his email address too."

"Miss Sidle?"

Both she and Greg quickly pushed to their feet at the sudden opening of the door.

"I'm Doctor Tucker; I'm one of the ER residents here." After a nod in Greg's direction, the doctor shifted his full attention to Sara. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. I... " Sara ran her tongue over suddenly bone-dry lips. "I'm still not quite sure what happened; all the police officer that contacted me said was that there was an accident out on I-15."

"Yeah, apparently, they're still trying to work out exactly what happened." The doctor shrugged, helplessly. "All I can tell you is that there were two vehicles involved; a contractor's van, I believe it was, and a cab in which both the driver and passenger were killed." He shifted, clearly uncomfortable with his next task. "And, I'm sorry but, as you were listed as next-of-kin, we need you make an official identification for us."

"You want me to come with you, Sara?"

She'd completely forgotten Greg was there. Even though her fingers were still gripping tightly to his, she'd been focussed so intently on what the doctor was saying – and picturing in her mind exactly what was about to happen - that his presence had simply ceased to register.

"No, Greg; thank you but I'd rather do it alone." She squeezed his hand once before slipping free of his hold and nodding at the waiting physician. "Okay Doctor, I can do that."

Preceding him through the door and into the room she'd been dreading, Sara took a long, slow breath as she came to a halt beside the draped figure on the gurney. She stared, eyes locked firmly on it as the doctor rounded the other side, his hand reaching out to take hold of the top edge of the sheet.

"Ready?"

Unable to speak, Sara nodded and braced herself as the drape was pulled back and the person beneath revealed.

"Yes." Closing her eyes tightly, she fought back tears as she nodded once again. "Yes, that's her; that's Betty Grissom."


	2. Chapter 2

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 2 ~**

Tapping the teaspoon quickly against the edge of her mug, Sara placed it down on the counter, picked up her coffee and returned to her place at the table. She'd lost count of the number of cups she'd actually had since that first one at the hospital but for someone who was usually a staunch tea drinker, the almost endless caffeine hits were beginning to take their toll.

Reaching across, she pulled the notepad closer and stared at the list of names she'd so far managed to compile; the total was far greater than she thought she'd be able to come up with and she hoped fervently that it was a list she wouldn't have to work her way through.

Lifting the cup, she sipped carefully at the hot liquid, almost spilling some as a sudden, unexpected knock sounded from the front of the house and, placing the mug down carefully, she pushed to her feet and went to answer the door.

"Nick." Pulling the door wide, Sara greeted him with a tired smile. "You're back."

"Yeah, finally." Stepping over the threshold, Nick Stokes pulled her into a tight hug. "Coyote Springs might only be an hour or so north of here but it may as well be on the other side of the country when you get a phone call like the one I got from Greg this morning; I wrapped up my scene as quickly as I could and high-tailed it back." He released her from the embrace but kept both hands on her upper arms as he studied her face closely. "I'm so sorry, Sara; I liked Mrs. G., she was a nice lady."

"Thanks." She stepped back, swinging her arm wide as she gestured towards the kitchen. "Come on through; I'll make you a coffee."

He led the way, veering off to the side as he entered the kitchen to pull out one of the sleek timber chairs that surrounded the dining table as Sara continued on towards the kettle. Taking a seat, he watched her carefully, only too aware of how well she hid her feelings. "How you holding up?"

"Not too bad really." Sara shrugged absently as she measured out a spoonful of instant coffee then filled the cup with freshly boiled water. "But I haven't had much time to take it all in yet; between dealing with things at the hospital and trying to get some sort of lead on Gil…" She sighed wearily. "I guess it'll probably hit me fully once I get a moment to think; right now I don't have that luxury."

She carried the cup across and slid it in front of her visitor before retaking her own seat.

"I stayed with her until David arrived, I don't think the ER staff was too happy about that but I couldn't stand the thought of her being stuck downstairs in the hospital basement waiting to be collected." She sighed heavily. "At least now she's kind of among friends. I've also asked that no autopsy be scheduled until Doc Robbins gets back from his conference tomorrow; I'm hoping that given her age and the fact that she was the passenger in the cab, he might decide a PM isn't necessary."

"And Griss?" Nick asked cautiously.

"No luck so far." Picking up the pen she'd been using, she tapped lightly on the table top, the caffeine high she'd been cruising on for the past few hours making her fidget. "I've tried getting in touch with both Catherine and Jim, I figure they're probably my best bet at tracking him down, but neither is answering their phone; I have left messages for both of them though so hopefully it won't be too much longer before someone calls me back." She shrugged helplessly. "In the meantime, I've been making a list of everyone else I can think of that might know where he is and I can give the University of Florida a call if I get stuck; I may be able to trace him that way."

"University of Florida?" Nick cocked his head and frowned. "Why there?"

"The last contact I had with him was a letter with a Gainesville postmark." Sara explained, discarding the pen and lifting her mug again. "I Googled the area and there's a large entomology research facility there so I'm guessing he was probably-"

"He's not in Florida, Sara." Running one finger round and round the rim of his mug, Nick didn't dare meet her eye. "He hasn't been there for about a year now."

"Excuse me?" Placing her cup down with a thump, she blinked in surprise. "How would you know that?"

"Because I've seen him." With a sigh of resignation, he shrugged. "Here in Vegas, I mean. I'm not sure where he's actually based now but I do know it's within driving distance of his mom's house; the impression I got was that he's been visiting her every couple of weeks for a while now."

"And you never thought to mention it to me." There was no mistaking the anger in Sara's tone.

"He asked me not to, Sara; made me promise actually." Nick shifted uncomfortably under his friend's glare. "And, since I love both you guys, I didn't want to get caught up in the middle of anything then feel like I had to take sides so I kept quiet about it." He glanced up. "I'm sorry; I figured it was best for everyone if I just stayed quiet."

She stared at him silently for a moment before continuing. "What else haven't you told me, Nick?"

"That, although I don't know where he's living, I'm pretty sure I do know where he is right now." Looking up for the fist time in minutes, Nick met her glare with a steady gaze of his own. "I spoke to Catherine last week and she mentioned that she was looking forward to taking some time off this week. She said Grissom was flying up to meet her and then they were planning to drive down to North Carolina together; apparently there's some people there that he wants to meet."

"Grissom and Catherine." Sara almost spit the names out. "Are they-"

"No!" Knowing instantly what her mind had jumped to, Nick broke in quickly before she could finish what she was about to say. "I made a joke about that possibility a while back and Cath very quickly put me in my place. She said that after knowing Grissom for so many years, she considered him more of a brother than anything else and I'm pretty damned sure he'd say something similar if you asked him." He hurried to reassure her. "There's nothing between them, Sara; the feeling I got was that Cath was going along on this trip purely for moral support."

"So there goes my Florida lead." Anger on a slow boil, Sara scribbled over the university's contact information she'd copied down earlier. "I guess I'm back to waiting for either _her_ or Jim to return my calls."

"Actually…" Given her previous reaction, Nick hesitated slightly before pressing on. "You can scrub that list all together." Slipping a folded piece of paper from his pocket, he slid it across the table towards her. "That's Grissom's cell phone number." Sara's head whipped up at the words and he gave her a quick, embarrassed shrug. "I managed to get it out of him when I saw him; he was kind of reluctant to give it up at first but I think he decided, with Cath and Jim both gone, it was better to have someone in town that knew how to get in touch with him; probably in case something like last night happened.

Reaching across, Sara drew the piece of paper closer then unfolded it and sat staring at it for a full minute before looking up at the man seated opposite.

"I don't want to sound rude, Nick, but could you go now, please?"

He was about to protest but the look on her face stopped him; the fatigue, grief and frustration that the night had wrought painted clearly there for him to see.

"Please?" She repeated with a weary sigh, she nodded at the paper before her. "I'd like to do this in private; I really don't think it needs an audience."

"Yeah…" Pushing back his chair, he got to his feet. "Yeah, of course, Sara." Rounding the table, he touched her shoulder gently. "But if you or…" He nodded down at the hastily scribbled note. "Griss need anything, then let me know, okay?"

"Of course." Her voice was cool and she didn't bother looking up; her gaze was firmly fixed on that number. "Thanks for coming by, Nick."

Leaving her at the table, he quickly made his way back through the house towards the front door and was just reaching for the handle when he heard her voice wafting through from the kitchen.

"Gil, it's me."

There was silence for a moment and Nick could only imagine Grissom's response to the unexpected call. He heard Sara draw breath then let it out in a long, controlled exhalation before continuing.

"I need to talk to you, Gil; it's… it's about your mom."

Pulling the door open, Nick quietly let himself out. He'd promised not to tell her anything about Grissom's whereabouts but circumstances had forced his hand; he hadn't told her everything he knew though, he thought to himself as he made his way out towards his truck, she'd find that out for herself soon enough.

* * *

With a quick muttered apology for her rudeness, Sara pushed herself passed the elderly couple attempting to manoeuvre their luggage cart out through the arrival terminal's sliding glass doors and almost sprinted towards the nearest flight information sign. The traffic on Tropicana had been a nightmare and by the time she'd hit the airport's feeder roads, she'd been praying that the Delta Airlines flight she'd rushed to meet was running late.

She scanned the board, searching for the 5:58pm flight from Raleigh her heart sinking at the sight of the word 'Landed' beside it. She checked her watch and sighed at the realisation that it had already been on the ground for forty-five minutes.

She'd missed them. They'd arrived, grabbed their bags and gone and, for the moment at least, she had absolutely no idea where in Vegas they were.

"Sara!"

The sound of her name was faint and she wasn't sure at first that that's what she had actually heard but turning in the direction she thought it had come from, she was met by the distant but unmistakable sight of Catherine Willows waving madly at her from the other side of the large concourse.

Sara rounded the bank of poker machines that decorated the middle of the building, weaving her way through the scattered groupings of newly-arrived travellers, and those there to greet them, then quickly made her way towards her former colleague and friend; any ill-will she may have felt towards the woman that morning completely forgotten in the relief that she'd actually been in time to catch them after all.

"Catherine." Although not always the most demonstrative of people, Sara couldn't help but pull her into a warm and welcoming hug. "It's so good to see you. I was late getting here; I was beginning to think that you'd already gone."

"Ordinarily we would have been." Catherine returned the embrace before pulling back. "But we're missing one piece of luggage; the airline's trying to track it down now." She frowned. "How on earth did you know what flight we'd be on?"

"I called a friend in PD and had her run a check on today's incoming North Carolina flights." Sara admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "Took her all of five minutes to get back to me with the details." She glanced around, taking in the familiar sight of the large Briggs and Riley duffle bag she'd spent a small fortune on just a handful of years before, a bright red Samsonite suitcase along with two laptop cases and a large tote bag perched precariously on a luggage cart by Catherine's side. "Where's Gil?"

"Oh, he's around here somewhere." Leaning casually against the cart, Catherine shrugged. "Crammed into economy for a seven hour flight played havoc with his knees so he's trying to walk it off."

Sara nodded her understanding, having travelled extensively with him, she was only too aware of the effect long distance travel could have. "I've got the car outside; I thought I could give you a lift -"

"Hello, Sara."

She stopped, mid sentence, at the words. She hadn't heard his approach but now that she knew that he was there she realized she could physically feel him, standing just a few short feet behind her. She started to turn, a smile half-formed on her lips when she caught sight of him and froze, the breath seeming to seize in her throat.

He looked almost no different than he had the last time she'd seen him; perhaps a little leaner, definitely a little greyer but, fundamentally, just the same. It was what he carried that grabbed her attention though and, seeing the direction of her stare, Grissom hitched it a little higher, his arms tightening protectively around the small bundle.

"I know it's kind of awkward since he's finally decided to fall asleep but there's someone I'd like you to meet." He twisted slightly so the small face nestled snugly against his shoulder was visible. "This is Ben, Sara" He paused for a moment, watching as her gaze rose from the slumbering child to meet his. "He's my son."

 **A/N:** Thank you, SylvieT :)


	3. Chapter 3

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 3 ~**

"I, uh… wow."

Grissom watched as the mask came down; he had seen it countless times before and knew Sara was struggling to process what she'd just seen and heard. He watched as she blinked twice, then swung her gaze from the sleeping child snuggled comfortably against his shoulder to meet his own, a broad smile lighting up her face; a smile that was most definitely not reflected in her eyes.

"I, um…," She swallowed deeply as though her mouth had suddenly gone dry before quickly pulling herself together again. "Congratulations." One hand came up gesturing towards Ben. "He's beautiful."

"Yeah," Unable to hide the pride in his voice, Grissom cupped the small sandy-blonde head with his free hand as he spoke. "He is." He returned her forced smile with a genuine one of his own. "We weren't expecting anyone here to meet us."

"Oh, I just thought, since I had the time, that I'd come and pick you up." Sara shrugged. "It's no big deal; I'm not working tonight anyway."

"I appreciate the thought but I booked a rental car online while we were waiting for the flight." Grissom shrugged apologetically. "I need a baby seat for Ben anyway."

"Yeah, of course you do. I really wasn't expecting…" Sara's face softened as she suddenly remembered the reason for their arrival. "I'm so sorry about your mom; I-"

"Mr. Grissom?" Stepping in beside them, the young Delta clerk smiled apologetically before continuing. "The handlers believe they've found your stroller, sir; they should have it out here for you in just a couple of minutes."

"Thank you." Nodding his appreciation at the woman, Grissom hastened to fill Sara in. "Of all the things they could have misplaced I'd have preferred it was my case than that stroller; damned thing cost me a fortune."

"How about I take his majesty off you and go and get it then." Speaking for the first time since Grissom's appearance, Catherine stepped forward and carefully eased Ben from his father's hold. "Then maybe the two of you can talk properly."

They both watched as she trailed after the clerk, the still sleeping child cradled in her arms. Grissom only turned back when Catherine and his son were completely out of sight.

"Thank you, for what you did today." Taking a step forward, he quickly pulled her into towards him. "For what you did for Mom I mean; she loved you, Sara, she really did."

"I loved her too." Wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, she returned the embrace as she squeezed her eyes tightly closed, willing away the tears that threatened to fall. "We may have gotten off to a bumpy start but we ended up good friends." Despite the circumstances and despite the discovery she'd so recently had, Sara revelled in the close contact. "How are you holding up?"

"I don't know." Releasing his hold, Grissom took a reluctant step back. "I don't think it's really sunk in yet." Reaching across to grab the handle of the luggage cart Catherine had abandoned, he nodded towards a pair of empty chairs. "You want to sit?"

"Sure." Sinking gratefully into one of the moulded plastic chairs, Sara waited for him to position the cart beside them and take his seat before speaking again. "I asked David Phillips to get in touch with Doc Robbins, he's at a conference down in Houston at the moment, but he's due back tomorrow morning."

"I know." Leaning back in the chair, Grissom rubbed one hand tiredly across his eyes. "I called the Coroner's office just before we left for the airport." Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly before going on. "Al's booked on the 10am flight and told David to let me know he'd be in his office at around 2pm; that ought to give him time to read through the police and hospital reports and decided what needs to be done." He paused. "And have a look at her, of course." He blinked. "God, I don't believe this is happening."

"I'll come with you, okay?" Reaching out, Sara placed her hand lightly on top of his. "That's if you want me to, of course."

"That would be…" He nodded wearily, the corners of his mouth turned up in a small but appreciative smile. "That would be great; thank you."

"So," With that settled, and hoping to lighten his mood a little, Sara withdrew her hand and relaxed back in her seat. "How old is he?"

"Um," Grissom's smile brightened slightly. "Ten months. He's a great kid, Sara; he really is."

"Is his mother arriving later?" It was asked lightly, almost as if she really didn't have that much interest in the answer but Sara felt her chest constrict tightly as the words left her mouth. "I mean, she obviously wasn't with you and Catherine in North Carolina so I'm guessing she'll be making her own way to Vegas for the-"

"No." Grissom shook his head. "She won't be coming for the funeral." He shrugged dismissively. "She won't be coming at all."

"Oh." Taken by surprise, Sara couldn't help but stare. "I just figured-"

"There you are." Striding towards them, Ben now safely ensconced in his navy blue Bugaboo stroller, Catherine graced them both with a self-satisfied smile. "I was half expecting them to try and fob me off with some cut-price K-Mart crap but they actually found the right one." She turned towards Grissom. "Looks like we can finally get out of here."

"Okay, we'll go catch the shuttle over to the rental center and pick up the car." Pushing himself to his feet, he ran a hand briskly through his hair before addressing Sara. "I'll give you a call tomorrow morning and arrange a time to meet, okay?"

"Yeah, of course." Standing herself, Sara watched as he spun the luggage cart around towards one of the terminal's exits. "Where are you staying?"

"Catherine's house tonight" He explained. "Lily pretty much demanded it; she's always insisted that she's Ben's other grandma so…" He paused a moment before continuing. "I thought I'd head over to Mom's house tomorrow afternoon, he knows the place and he's unsettled enough as it is so being somewhere familiar will be good for him."

"Sounds sensible." Sara nodded, making a mental note that Lily Flynn was yet another person in on the secret. "Oh, I spoke to Jim a couple of hours ago; he said to tell you that he'd be driving down tomorrow; He wasn't sure exactly when he'd be arriving, he has to make arrangements for the business and he wants to stop by and visit Ellie before he goes but it will probably be fairly late before he gets in; he said he'd let you know."

"Okay, that's fine." Grissom nodded distractedly, watching carefully as Catherine steered the stroller and its precious cargo in and out of the milling crowd. "I'd better go and catch them up." He gave the cart a hefty push only to pull it to a stop again and turn towards her. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He took a step forward and leaning in, placed a quick, gentle kiss on her left cheek. "Thanks again, Sara… for everything."

She watched him go, following his every move until he disappeared through the glass doors in search of Catherine then raised her hand to her cheek and pressed it lightly to the skin his lips had just touched.

She wasn't sure exactly how she felt but numb, she decided, was probably the best description. Betty's death had been unexpected and upsetting but that had paled almost into insignificance at the sight of Grissom standing before her holding tightly to that child. She sighed, her hand coming back down again as she turned away from the doors he'd just gone through and headed swiftly towards the ones that would take her out to her own car.

Sara wanted to go home; no, needed to go home. She had a almost desperate longing for a drink, a feeling she usually managed to override but tonight, she thought, she deserved one; followed perhaps by a long, hot soak in the tub before finally climbing into bed and letting herself switch off.

Stepping out into the cool night air, she took a deep, refreshing breath and stared across the airport car lot to the bright neon lights of the city beyond and made a quick decision; as tempting as the thought of locking herself away inside the comfort of her own home for the night was she knew she couldn't quite give into it yet. She'd head home shortly but first there was something she needed to do.

* * *

"Grissom's got a what?" The shock evident in Greg's voice only spurred Sara on as she slid onto the vinyl-clad bench beside him.

"You heard me, Grissom's got a son." She almost spat the words out as she stabbed her finger towards the man seated opposite in the diner's small booth. "And _he_ knew all about it and decided to keep it to himself."

"I told you everything I was comfortable telling you, Sara." Nick raised a hand in defence, completely unsurprised by the anger in his friend's face. "I just couldn't bring myself to tell you that; I'm sorry but…" He shrugged. "I just didn't know how."

"So you thought you'd just let me drive out to the airport and find out for myself." A mixture of anger and sarcasm dripped from every word. "Great decision, Nick; what a fantastic friend you are!"

"Hey, I had no idea you were going to go out there to meet him, Sara." He told her honestly. "But if I had I probably _would_ have said something, okay?" He met her stare head on, keeping his voice low and even in an effort to calm things down. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to hurt you but I certainly didn't want you to find out that way."

"Hold on." Brow furrowed, Greg jumped in before Sara could respond. "How the hell did you find out anyway? I thought no one here was in touch with Grissom."

"I wasn't, not really." Nick admitted, looking from one to the other. "I only came across him myself a month or so ago." He lifted his iced tea, took a sip and then pushed it and the remains of the meal he'd so recently been enjoying out of the way. "I went out to Warrick's grave one morning after work and saw him sitting on the ground beside it." He smiled at the memory. "He never heard me coming up behind him but I sure as hell heard him; he was busy telling Warrick all about his son and it was about that point that I caught sight of the baby sitting in his lap." He looked across at Greg. "His name's Ben, by the way, and he's the spitting image of his dad."

"You should have told me, Nick." Anger abating, Sara shook her head. "It's bad enough that Grissom didn't have the guts to do it but-"

"Hang on a second," Pushing himself up slightly, he frowned. "You divorced the guy, Sara; he's not exactly answerable to you, remember."

Sara ducked her head at the words, staring down at the table. "Yeah, but-"

"But nothing, Sar." Reaching across the tabletop, Nick grabbed her hand. "Look, if I hadn't been forced to tell you what I did then I never would have said a word about any of it, okay; not about meeting up with Grissom, not about knowing where he is or isn't and certainly not about Ben. I refuse to hurt you like that, Sara especially knowing that you can't - or won't - let yourself move on from him." He squeezed her fingers, forcing her to look up at him. "And I really didn't think I should be the one to break the news that _he'd_ moved on from you."

Sara remained silent, allowing the ambient noise the diner's other patrons created waft around her for a second before pulling her hand from Nick's grasp and pushing to her feet. She kept her head down, clearly reluctant to meet either man's gaze as she patted her pockets for her car keys.

"You know I, um…" She pulled the keys free, a weak smile pasted on her face as she finally looked up. "I think I'll head home; it's been a long day."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Greg watched her helplessly, knowing from long experience that at this particular moment in time, space was what she needed more than anything else. "A good night's sleep will do you the world of good."

"I hope so." Collecting herself fully, Sara nodded. "I'm sorry, Nick, I shouldn't have dumped all the blame on you like that."

"Don't worry about it." The Texan's face split wide in a familiar grin. "What else are friends for?" The smile softened slightly as he met her eyes. "You have a good night's rest, Sara; you'll feel better about things in the morning."

They watched her go, both of them tracking her movements across the small car lot that serviced the diner to the silver Prius and then looked on as she eased the car out into the busy traffic of Desert Inn Road.

"Wow, Grissom with a kid." Greg shook his head in disbelief at the thought. "Well, if nothing else, at least Sara knows everything now."

"Does she?" Turning his back on the window, Nick looked across the table at his younger colleague. "You know, when Griss and I met up at Warrick's grave that day I had all kinds of questions for him but he only had two for me: how's Sara and is she seeing anyone." He cocked his head. "Now, I've seen that man hide a hell of a lot from people over the years but he couldn't hide the look of relief and hope that crossed his face when I told him that she wasn't."

 **A/N:** Thank you, Sylvie :)


	4. Chapter 4

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 4 ~**

Staring up at the assortment of photographs that decorated the wall beside her, Sara smiled at the sight of the newest additions, a handful of shots showing off the Robbins' family's latest four-legged fosters; a motley cluster of tiny black puppies huddled tightly together in a well-used dog basket. If there was one thing she'd learnt about the animal loving Robbins family over the years it was that they could never bring themselves to say no to a canine - or feline for that matter - in need of a safe haven before they were old enough for adoption.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor but she knew from long experience that the person approaching was not the one they were waiting for; the gait was wrong for starters and there was no tell-tale tapping of crutches but that didn't stop the man beside her turning expectedly in his seat to stare at the open doorway behind.

"It's not him," She twisted slightly in her seat, noting the tension that was clearly evident on Grissom's face. "He'll be another five minutes or so; you heard what the tech that showed us in here said."

"I know," Turning back, Grissom sighed heavily. "I just want this over with that's all." He managed a weak smile. "I never realized before just how daunting a visit to the coroner's office can be."

"That's because you've never been on this side of the desk before." Sara pointed out. "Every other time you've been here it's been on a professional basis not a personal one." She nodded over towards the expensive coffee maker that sat proudly in the corner as she pushed to her feet. "Do you want a cup? I'm sure Doc won't mind if we help ourselves."

"No, thanks." He shook his head before tipping it back slightly and closing his eyes. "I feel like I'm pretty much running on the stuff as it is."

"Have you had any rest at all since you got here?" Sara frowned, taking in for the first time the dark smudges underlining each eye on his otherwise pale face.

"Not really, no." Keeping his head back, Grissom shrugged. "Catherine and her mother started squabbling about fifteen minutes after we walked through the door, that set Ben off and it took the best part of an hour to settle him again," He sighed. "And then I couldn't seem to shut my mind off long enough to fall asleep; I spent most of the night pacing round the living room."

Raising the cup she'd just filled to her nose, Sara breathed in the welcome aroma of freshly-brewed coffee as she weighed up what to say; there were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many things that she needed to know and, while she knew this was neither the time nor place for them, there was one in particular that had kept _her_ awake most of the night.

"This woman… the mother," One shoulder rose in an almost lackadaisical shrug as she eyed the man before her. "Where is she?"

"Gil!" Making his way in through the doorway, Al Robbins couldn't keep the smile off his face at the sight of his old friend. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you." He waited as Grissom got to his feet and approached before pulling his right arm free of its crutch and holding his hand out in greeting. "I wish the circumstances could be different, of course, but it's still great to have you back."

"Thanks, Al." Taking the proffered hand, Grissom shook it warmly. "And thanks for coming in to do this for me too; I know you just got back yourself."

"No problem at all." He nodded back towards the chair Grissom had just vacated. "Take a seat." He smiled over at Sara. "Making yourself at home I see."

"It pretty much feels like home at times, Doc." Crossing the room, she slipped back into her chair beside Grissom. "How was Houston?"

"Been to one seminar you've been to 'em all." Rounding the desk, Robbins carefully lowered himself into the well-worn leather chair that had served him for years and, after balancing his crutches in their customary spot, leaned down and pulled open a drawer. "I didn't see much of the city itself but what I did see looked nice." Sitting upright again, he slid a brown paper sack across the desktop towards Grissom. "That's the belongings your mother had with her, Gil; PD dropped off her purse and its contents this morning and…" Slipping his hand inside the bag, he pulled out a small clear plastic bag. "That's the jewellery she was wearing; David collected it when he logged her in last night and has been keeping it safe ever since."

"Thank you." Ignoring the larger bag, Grissom pulled the smaller one close and stared at the well-worn gold wedding band and diamond-set eternity ring it contained; he'd spent his life seeing those rings on her finger – couldn't, in fact, remember a single time that they hadn't been there – and now here they were in front of him, never to be worn again.

He was silent for a moment, memories of both his parents playing through his mind.

"What happened?" He cleared his throat, "I mean… I know the basics but not exactly what occurred…" Grissom paused, breathing out audibly before continuing. "I don't know how the accident actually happened or what it was that caused her death."

Throughout his career, Robbins had found himself explaining a loved one's death to a friend or colleague more times than he cared to remember and he'd quickly discovered that the easiest way to get both himself and the grieving relative through what could, at times, be a brutal ordeal was by maintaining the air of professional detachment that he'd cultivated so carefully over the years.

"Well," He leaned forward, slipping a buff manila folder from the heavily-laden tray on his desk and, pulling it open, flicked through the paperwork within. "According to the police report, a white Freightliner van turned from Spring Mountain Road onto the southbound ramp for the Interstate at about 11:50pm." He scanned quickly through the official statement knowing instinctively that Grissom neither wanted nor needed at the moment to hear every little detail of the accident. "Apparently the van sped up dramatically before attempting to merge with the existing traffic and veered sharply across the entry lane and into the cab your mother was a passenger in."

"He lost control?" Grissom's voice sounded soft and low as he asked the question.

"That was the impression the primary witness got, he was travelling behind the van as it headed towards the interstate." Robbins shrugged. "He saw the whole thing." He placed the report he'd just read to the side and lifted another. "The cab driver died at the scene, your mother was unconscious but relatively stable when the EMTs arrived however they lost her pulse on route to Desert Palm." He slid the sheet of paper on top of the other as he looked up at the man before him. "Resuscitation was attempted in both the ambulance and the ER but they couldn't bring her back, Gil; I'm sorry."

"What were her injuries?" Grissom stared down at his lap as he spoke; he could feel both of them watching him but, for the moment at least, he couldn't look up.

Resting both arms on the desktop, Robbins glanced from Grissom to Sara and back again before carrying on.

"To be honest, there's barely a mark on her." He raised his right hand and pointed vaguely towards the side of his head. "Just a little bit of bruising near her eye and above the temple." He sighed. "I've had enough experience with car accident victims over the years to know that that was caused by a blow to either the passenger side window or the door of the cab." He shrugged. "I had David takes some x-rays and they showed she sustained fractures to both the temporal and sphenoid bones."

Grissom nodded slowly, letting the information sink in. "Are you planning an autopsy?"

"No." Robbins quickly quashed the thought. "Given her age, what we know of the accident and what was discovered on the x-rays, I think it's fair to say that she died from the effects of a traumatic brain injury and I'm more than satisfied to put that down as cause of death."

"Thank you." Releasing a long, slow breath of relief, Grissom looked up for the first time since Al began to talk. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate that."

"There's something else you may want to know about though." Robbins shifted awkwardly in his chair as he pondered how best to break the news. "Something else turned up on the x-rays; something that's not related to the accident."

"It's okay, Al; I know what you're going to say." A weak smile played across Grissom's still pale face. "She hadn't been feeling well for a while and I finally convinced her to go and see her doctor." He turned to Sara, meeting her curious gaze with a steady one of his own. "She was diagnosed with metastatic renal cell carcinoma four months ago. The tests showed it had spread from her kidney to her liver and, according to her oncologist, there was little they could do for it." He shrugged helplessly. "She probably only had six months or so left anyway."

"Oh, god." Sara raised her free hand to her mouth as the words sunk in. "I had dinner with her just last month; she never even mentioned it."

"I don't think she told anyone." Grissom stated, a small smile forming on his lips as he remembered just how stubborn Betty could be. "She refused to accept what the doctor told her; she told me that there was no way she was going to let some stupid disease dictate how and when she was going to die."

"Yeah, that sounds like her." Sara said gently, compassion for both mother and son coming to the fore. "I know it's no comfort but at least this way she went quickly."

"And I don't think she'd have suffered." Al hurried to reassure them both. "With a knock like the one she received, I imagine she lost consciousness straightaway; she probably didn't even realise what was happening." Retrieving his crutches, he slipped them on and pushed himself upright. "If you want to go and see her, Gil, I can take you through now; she's just in the other room."

"I, ah…" Grissom felt his chest tighten at the prospect; it was what he'd come here for but, now that the moment had arrived, he suddenly wasn't sure that he could actually bring himself to do it. He breathed in deeply, sucking in as much air as could before letting it out in a slow, control exhalation and was about to speak again when Sara leaned in close, her voice low and comforting as her hand locked tightly around his.

"You don't have to do this just now if you don't want to-" Sara squeezed his fingers. "But if you do, I'll come in with you." Raising her free hand, she gently wiped away the single tear that slipped down his face. "We'll do it together, okay?" She nodded gently. "We'll go in and see Betty together."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for the overtime, Sylvie :)


	5. Chapter 5

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **A/N:** My apologies for the lateness of this chapter, one week of computer problems followed by another week with the flu doesn't really make for easy story writing. Massive thanks goes to SylvieT for dealing with the steaming pile of trash I sent her way earlier this week; that will not be happening again, I promise. ;)

* * *

 **~ Chapter 5 ~**

"Now, just remember, Gil," Pulling the swinging door open, Al Robbins stood to one side to allow his two visitors to exit the viewing room before him. "If there's anything else you want to know or suddenly remember that you meant to ask, just give me a call on my cell, okay? Day or night; I'm happy to answer any questions that might pop up."

"Thanks, Al." Stepping out into morgue's corridor, Grissom turned. "But I'm pretty sure you covered everything I'll need to know." An appreciative smile played across his face as Sara fell in by his side; her presence and support throughout the ordeal had been invaluable. "I, ah, spoke to the funeral home before coming in here, they said to let you know they'd be by first thing Monday morning."

"The arrangements have been made already?" Sara frowned at the news. "I was going to offer to help you out with them."

"There's nothing to help out with really." He shrugged. "As determined as she was not to have the cancer beat her, Mom was also pretty realistic about it; she arranged and paid for her funeral a week or so after the diagnosis so all I had to do was set the ball rolling with her solicitor this morning."

"She sounds like a wise woman." Al butted in. "I just wish I'd had the chance to meet her sometime."

"You two probably would have got on well." Sara pointed out. "If there was one thing Betty was determined about it was that her disability wouldn't define her in any possible way." She smiled at Robbins. "Kind of like you, Doc."

"Sara!" Striding purposefully along the hallway, DB Russell smiled broadly as he neared. "I was hoping I'd catch you before you left." Coming to a stop before the small group, he quickly switched his attention to Grissom as he held out his right hand. "I'm D.B. Russell and I'm going to hazard a guess that you're Gil Grissom." He grasped Grissom's outstretched hand and shook it firmly. "I heard the two of you were down here and thought I'd head down and pass on the condolences of everyone in the lab."

"Thank you." Returning the shake, Grissom nodded his head towards the woman standing beside him. "And thanks for freeing Sara up like you did; she's been a great help."

"No problem," Russell told him as he turned to look at Sara. "The department lets you take up to five days off your accumulated sick leave for bereavements but I thought we could use up some of that accumulated overtime of yours instead." He shrugged good-naturedly. "That ought to keep HR off both our backs for a little while."

"Works for me." With a nod of thanks, Sara touched Grissom's arm. "Do you know when the service is yet?"

"Yeah, eleven-thirty, Tuesday morning." He glanced back at Robbins. "Gregson's Funeral Services in Henderson are handling it."

"They're good people." Al assured him. "They'll take excellent care of her."

"So," Sara turned back towards D.B. "I'll take the rest of that day off and be back, ready for shift, on Wednesday night if that's okay."

"That's fine." With a nod and a smile, Russell backed up a little. "Well, I won't hold you up any longer, I'm sure you've both got things you need to do." He nodded in Grissom's direction. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you; we'll have to get together some time and have a chat."

"Sure, I'd like that." Standing there in the corridor of a morgue he'd visited professionally more times than he cared to remember, Grissom took a deep breath as he felt a cold sweat begin to run down the back of his neck. The atmosphere was sterile yet cloying and he could feel it pressing in on him from all sides. Tearing his attention away from the departing back of D.B. Russell, he turned, almost imploringly, towards Sara. "Do you think we could get out of here now?" He wiped the back of his hand across his brow. "I really need to get some fresh air."

"Yeah, yeah, of course." An anxious look passed between Sara and Robbins as she grabbed hold of Grissom's arm. "We'll go outside and take a seat for a while." Leading him carefully towards the exit, she cast a quick glance back over her shoulder. "Doc, do you think someone could bring a bottle of water out to us? I think a cool drink might go down well right now."

"Of course, I'll grab one myself and meet you out there."

Pushing the heavy door wide, Sara encouraged Grissom to go ahead of her before joining him on the top step. "Sit here, we shouldn't be in anyone's way."

"I'm sorry." Grissom's voice shook slightly as he lowered himself to the ground. "I guess I'm a little out of practice."

"Well, there's a bit of a difference between looking at a victim that you don't know and coming here to view at your mother." Taking a seat beside him, Sara smiled. "Don't worry, you did fine." She glanced back as she heard the door open behind her. "Didn't he, Doc?"

"I've seen bigger men than you hit the floor before they've even taken a step inside that room, Gil." Leaning slightly, Robbins placed a hand on Grissom's shoulder. "And I'm talking hard-bitten cops here too so, Sara's right, you did just fine." He fished a plastic bottle from his coat pocket. "Here, take a drink of this, you'll feel better in no time."

Robbins watched as he uncapped the water and took a mouthful, pleased to see the colour returning to his old friend's face. He shifted uncomfortably on his crutches, moving his weight from one side to the other and back again as he weighed up whether or not now was the best time to broach the subject he'd all but been ordered to bring up by his wife before he'd left for his office just a few short hours ago. Deciding that her ire was, in all likelihood, more worrisome than Grissom's he elected to go for it.

"I, uh…" Still a little unsure of himself, he cleared his throat. "I heard about your little boy, Gil; apparently he's been the talk of the lab since last night when the news broke about your return."

"The grapevine's still going strong then." Grissom commented dryly as he wiped the top of the water bottle before handing it to Sara. "Nothing ever really changes, does it?"

"No, I guess not." Robbins glanced briefly at Sara before continuing. "The reason I'm bringing it up is that Judy wanted me to ask if you'd like to come over to our place tomorrow sometime; she'd love to see you and she's dying to meet your son. She's heading out of town on Monday to visit her sister so she won't be able to make it to your mother's service and-" One shoulder rose in an embarrassed shrug. "I'm sure you remember how much she loves babies."

"I remember." Grissom nodded. The last time he'd actually seen Judy Robbins had been at Warrick's funeral and, although a lot of that day was blur to him now, he did remember the way she'd naturally gravitated towards the then infant Eli. "I don't know, Al; there are so many people I have to see and I'm really not sure just how long I'm going to be in town."

"How about killing two birds with one stone then?" Robbins suggested. "I'm going to assume that Nick and Greg are in that group you have to catch up with so why don't we make it a group breakfast at my place tomorrow morning." Quickly warming to his idea, he looked hopefully at the two people before him. "They can make their way over when they get off shift, I know Catherine came back with you so we can rope her in, and you too, Sara, of course."

"I'm not sure." Grissom still wavered. "It sounds great, Al, it really does; I'm just not sure I'm feeling all that sociable at the moment."

"Jim could come too." Sara looked up at Robbins. "He'll be back in town tonight some time; I'm sure he'd love to go."

"It's not like it'll be a party, Gil." Al pointed out. "I just think it'd be nice for us all to get together while we've got the chance." He smiled. "And it'll get Judy off my back about meeting your little guy; it's Ben, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's right." Rubbing at is temple, Grissom glanced quickly in Sara's direction before giving in with a not. "Okay, tomorrow morning it is." He looked up at Robbins. "What time do you want us there?"

"Well, barring mass murders, the guys ought to be off shift by eight at the latest so how about we make it for eight-thirty." The coroner's bearded face split into a wide grin as he finally got his way. "I heard Cath's staying at her house with her mother at the moment so I should be able to get in touch with her and if one of you could mention it to Jim when you speak to him-"

"I can do that." Sara told him. "He said he'd let me know when he arrived anyway so I'll make sure he knows to come."

"That's great then." With a companionable pat on Grissom's shoulder, Robbins pushed himself fully upright and moved towards the door. "We'll see you there then."

They stayed where they were, side by side on the concrete steps and listened as the heavy glass door closed behind them with a soft muffled thud. Finally Grissom broke the silence.

"I don't know whether to look forward to that or not."

"Why wouldn't you?" Glancing over, Sara shrugged. "I think it'll be nice to get the old team back together."

"Yeah, I guess it will." Grissom almost reluctantly agreed. "You know, I feel like I've spent the last day or two doing nothing but thanking people for either their condolences or just for simply being nice but I want you to know that, in your case, I really do appreciate everything you've done, Sara." He sighed heavily. "I know I haven't treated you particularly well and I'm sure you weren't expecting me to arrive back in town with a baby in tow…" He glanced sideways at her. "Truth be told, you'd have been well within your rights to just turn your back and leave me to it but you haven't and I want to make sure you know just how much that means to me."

Staring out at the blacktopped car lot that serviced the Coroner's Department, Sara could hear the absolute sincerity in his words.

"Do you want to go and get a drink or something?" She looked at her watch. "I know it's kind of early but-"

"I don't drink anymore, Sara or, rarely anyway." Turning slightly, Grissom leant back against the wrought iron railing beside him. "And I really think I should get going anyway; I want to head over to Brookfield first to see if there's anything I need to do or pick up before taking Ben over there."

"You're definitely staying there then?"

"For now, yes" He told her. "Ben knows the place, a lot of his things are there and I need to get him back into some sort of routine; travelling around this past week is playing havoc with him and, by extension, me." Reaching across, he slipped his hand over the top of hers. "You know, I've missed this, just being able to talk to you." He shrugged lightly. "I've missed you."

Sara stared down at their hands for a full second before pulling hers away.

"We need to talk, Gil."

"I know and we will but just…" Grissom glanced back over his shoulder towards the closed morgue doors. "Just let me get today over and done with, okay? We'll set something up tomorrow."

"Okay." Pushing to her feet, Sara reached into her jacket pocket and, pulling out her sunglasses, slipped them quickly over her eyes. "Tomorrow then."

She turned then, making her way down the remaining steps to the sidewalk below and looked across towards her Prius and the rented Nissan Maxima beside it.

"Hey, Sara?" Still seated on the steps, Grissom waited until she'd turned fully before speaking again. "To answer your earlier question, as far as I know, Ben's mother is in Gainesville, Florida." He shrugged, his discomfort clear for her to see. "Her name is Melissa Collins and, going by everything I've been told, she won't be taking any further part in Ben's life."

* * *

"He missed me he said!" Stalking from one side of the small room to the other, Sara stared fixedly ahead as she let fly. "I mean, seriously, who the hell does he think he is?"

Although phrased as a question, Greg knew better than to actually answer her and remained exactly where he was, seated somewhat uncomfortably, on the middle cushion of his three-seater sofa. The incessant ringing of the doorbell had pulled him reluctantly from a sound sleep and now here he was, effectively trapped in his own lounge room as his clearly agitated friend and colleague vented the steam she'd been bottling up ever since her trip to the airport the night before.

"Missed me? What a joke! Exactly when did he have the time to do that?"

She glanced briefly at the couch as if expecting him to answer but he stayed silent.

"He was out there screwing God only knows how many women and then he was tied up looking after the end result of one of those…" She paused briefly, searching for an appropriate term, "those get-togethers." Reaching the far wall for what, Greg guessed, had to have been the twentieth time, she barked out a cold, angry laugh as she turned. "And he seriously expects me to believe he missed me."

Unable to help himself, Greg tried to interject. "Sara, I- "

"Don't, okay?" Coming to a stop, she held a single restraining finger up. "Just don't say anything to defend him."

Greg held up both hands in supplication; a move that was met with a single nod of appreciation before she was off again.

"And then there's his mother, of course." She shook her head in amazement as she started pacing again. "You know, she actually had the nerve to ask me if I minded her listing me as next-of-kin since she wasn't always sure exactly where her damned son was and she was worried about something happening to her." She turned again, eyes flaring with anger. "She never said a word about being diagnosed with cancer, never said a word about Grissom visiting her in Vegas and – last but not least – she never said a single word about having a grandson." She spun on Greg. "What does that tell you about the woman, huh?

"That she was genuinely worried about dying alone and that she was probably trying to spare your feelings about the rest of it?" Amazed that she was actually allowing him to talk, Greg wasn't keeping quiet on this one. "Mrs. G was a nice lady, Sara; I really don't think there was anything malicious about it."

Coming to stop in the middle of the room, Sara cocked her head slightly to one side as she briefly considered his statement.

"No, perhaps you're right." She conceded reluctantly. "She'd no doubt have been following her son's orders anyway." She huffed derisively. "I asked him once if he wanted a child and do you know what his response was?" She didn't bother to wait for an answer this time. "He said it really wasn't something that was important to him; that if I wanted to go ahead and have one then that'd be fine but if I didn't, he'd be okay with that too." She shook her head, that ice-cold fury back in her eyes. "And then what does the bastard do? He ends up leaving me and going out and having a baby with some other woman."

"Sara, maybe you should sit down for a wh-"

"And then he comes back here and not only rubs my face in the fact that he's got a kid but he expects me to be interested in the whole 'mystery' of _his_ son's mother." She laughed although there wasn't even a shred of humour to the sound. "Well, I'm not getting drawn into it, okay? I refuse to even care."

"Sara…"

"Oh yes, and then there's my friends; let's not forget about the roles they've played in all of this." Sara tuned him out completely as she began her back-and-forth prowl again. "Nick's known about it for weeks and didn't tell me; Catherine has, apparently, been in on it from the start and said nothing and I have absolutely no doubt that Jim's part of this little conspiracy too." She glanced over at Greg. "You know, it actually surprised me today to find out that Al Robbins was out of the loop." She sighed heavily. "Not that any of it really matters anymore because now _everybody_ knows."

Coming to a sudden stop, she fell into the armchair opposite. "But the worst thing is that he's just lost his mother, he's grieving, so I have to push everything I'm feeling to one side and be nice to him, to be as understanding and helpful as I possibly can because that's the right thing to do." Raising her left hand she threaded her fingers roughly through her hair as her voice hitched. "But, knowing what I do now, about the kid and everything, all I want to do is…" She slumped visibly as the last of the anger drained away.

"Kill him?" Greg suggested lightly, referencing the discussion they'd had back at the last scene they'd attended together. "You know if anyone in this town could pull of the perfect murder it's got to be one of us."

"No, despite everything I still think killing him is beyond me." Sara told him truthfully. "Oh god, Greg, I just don't know what to do about this whole damned mess."

"It's not your mess to take care of though, is it?" Greg pointed out as he leaned forward on the couch. "I know it's hard for you and I know that there's a part of you that is always going to love the man but, like Nick said yesterday, the two of you are divorced now." His voice softened as he watched the effect his words were having on her. "You've got to let it go."

"That's the thing though." Locking her eyes with his, Sara's voice was steady and even as she answered. "We aren't."


	6. Chapter 6

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 6 ~**

"Goddamn stupid freaking thing." With his fingers clasped tightly around the hard plastic buckle, Grissom pressed in firmly with his thumb, cursing even more vividly under his breath as the mechanism once again failed to release. His frustration was met by a happy chuckle and the sight of the two denim-covered legs before him swinging in delight. He looked up with a smile. "And if you ever tell anyone you learnt those words from me, I'm going to deny it, okay?"

"You got it, Dad; we won't tell a soul."

The unexpected response gave Grissom a start and pulling his hands free, he backed away from the open car door and spun to face the new arrival.

"Jeez, you really ought to give people a heads-up when you're standing behind them, you know." The easy smile on his face belied both the words and the tone they were delivered in. "You could have given me a heart attack sneaking up like that."

"What can I say?" Hands outstretched in mock supplication, Jim Brass broke out in a grin of his own. "Once a cop, always a cop." He reached across, slapping his old friend playfully on the arm. "It's good to see you, Gil; you're looking well."

"Thanks but it's not been that long since you last saw me." Grissom pointed out. "All of about three weeks if I remember correctly."

"So, I'm being polite." Jim nodded towards the open rear door. "You got a problem?"

"You could say that." Grissom spun back round to face the Maxima. "How much do you know about five-point harnesses?" He gestured vaguely at the occupied car seat. "Because that thing's driving me nuts."

"Well, I haven't had as much experience with them as you have but…" Stooping slightly, Jim smiled and waved at the vehicle's remaining occupant. "If you let me in there, I'll see what I can do."

Grissom stepped back out of the way as Jim moved forward, his smile growing wider at he approached the open doorway.

"There's my little friend." Reaching out, he poked his finger gently into Ben's belly, an act that garnered a giggle of delight. "How you been Benny-boy?" He glanced back over his shoulder at Grissom. "Wow, he's grown."

"Babies have a habit of doing that." Grissom responded dryly as he nodded towards the car seat. "You want to see if you can break him out of there; the damn buckle keeps getting stuck."

"I'll give it a shot." Turning back to the business at hand, Jim pushed and then muffled a triumphant laugh as the buckle instantly released. "Hey, what do you know?" Pulling the straps free, he lifted Ben from his car seat and cradled him securely against his chest before standing upright. "Looks like I got the touch."

"I guess you do." Grissom conceded as he reached past him to snag the navy blue diaper bag sitting in the rear foot well. "How've you been, Jim?"

"Good," Busy tickling his little charge, Brass looked over with a preoccupied glance. "I'm good, business is great and, more importantly, Ellie was doing a whole lot better than the last time we spoke." He smiled happily. "When I saw her yesterday she was actually talking about looking into doing her GED and then maybe a college course."

"That's great." Swinging the bag over his shoulder, Grissom slammed the Nissan's door shut and leant back against the rear fender. "If she's thinking about her education then she's thinking about her future; that's a promising sign," He shrugged. "For her and for you."

"Yeah, that's the way I'm looking at it." Shifting Ben further up on his hip, Jim cocked his head towards him. "So, how's he been?"

"Pretty good actually." Grissom smiled. "He's a little unsettled at the moment but considering the travelling we've done lately that's not too surprising." Pushing himself off the side of the car, he held out the key fob and pressed the lock button but nothing happened. "Here we go again." Stepping away from the vehicle, it took a further three presses before the lights flashed an acknowledgement. "Finally!"

"At a guess, the battery in the remote is dying." Jim offered. "It's a rental, isn't it? Take it back; they'll sort it out for you."

"Oh that's just one of the problems with this damn car." Narrowing his eyes, Grissom glared at the offending vehicle as he slipped the fob into his pocket. "There's that, the car seat buckle, the fuel gauge that I'm pretty sure is giving me a false reading and a trunk light that flickers on and off every time you turn a corner." He huffed, clearly annoyed. "I was planning on taking it back and having them replace the damned thing but I think I might actually drive back home in it and swap it out for my car. I need to pick up a suit for the funeral anyway and there's some things of Ben's that I wouldn't mind having here either. " He looked over at Brass. "You want to come on a road trip tomorrow?"

"I'll be in that." Jim grinned at the little boy he held. "We can all go. What do you say, Ben? We'll have a boys' day out."

"Um, no, Ben's staying here." Grissom quick shook his head at the suggestion. "The less I have to try and extract him from that damned harness the better. I'll ask Cath if she can take him for the day and just the two of us will head out there."

"Well there goes that plan." Somewhat disappointed, Jim chucked the baby under the chin. "Never mind, buddy, we'll go out and have fun another day." He turned back to Grissom. "So, how'd it go with Sara?"

"It's… you know I'm not really sure." Grissom frowned as he struggled to find an adequate answer. "She's been great for the most part but I can feel something's off with her." One shoulder rose in a helpless shrug. "I'm not really sure that I can define it. I touched her hand yesterday and she couldn't wait to pull it away." He shook his head, clearly baffled. "That's not her, that's not Sara."

"She's pissed, Gil; surely even you can see that." Jim rolled his eyes. "Ex-wives can be kind of difficult to handle at the best of times." He nodded towards the child he still held. "But if you've done something that they really don't appreciate like having a kid with another woman…" He chuckled. "Well, let's just say you can probably count yourself lucky that you're able to walk normally today. God knows what my ex would have done if I'd confronted her with that." He grinned. "You had the look yet?"

"What look?" Grissom frowned.

"The one she gives you that underlines the fact that she's still one hundred percent positive you're the scum of the earth." Still smiling, Jim shook his head. "I can't tell you how many times I was the recipient of that one."

"Uh no, can't say I've seen it." Glancing over at the neat house behind them, he saw Judy Robbins' face appear in the window and raised a hand in greeting before continuing on. "But maybe I'll get to experience it this afternoon. I called Sara earlier and suggested she drop by the house after lunch; I figured that was probably the best time for the two of us to talk since your little friend there will, hopefully, be taking his nap."

"Better you than me, buddy." Moving away from the car, Jim smiled at the sight of the Robbins' front door opening wide. "You'd think once they've managed to unshackle themselves they might cut you a little slack but, if anything, they become even more judgemental and unforgiving than they were when you were married." He hitched Ben further up as he looked back towards the house. "If you're looking for advice, the best I can offer is to not take anything she says too personally and to try and keep the interactions to a minimum; trust me, it'll be easier on both of you that way."

"We were friends for a long time before we were married, Jim." Reaching across, Grissom held his hands out and grinned as his son lifted his arms, ready for transfer. "I'd really like things to be amicable between Sara and I; I don't want to have to walk away from here knowing that she hates me."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Relinquishing his hold on the boy, Jim watched as Ben settled comfortably on his father's hip before turning to greet their fast approaching hostess. "Lots of people want that but there's damn few of us that manage to get it."

* * *

Leaning back against the over-stuffed cushion behind her, Sara consciously ignored the murmur of conversation going on about her as she gazed out over the plant-filled garden and the scene playing out before her.

Her estranged husband stood, one arm occupied by the small, sturdy shape of his son, in the middle of the lawn while both watched the antics of the boisterous litter of puppies corralled behind a short picket fence that demarcated one shaded area of the Robbins' backyard.

She watched impassively, as Judy Robbins lifted one of the pups, a small fluffy bundle of black fur, towards the pair and allowed herself the briefest smile of amusement at the bounce of excitement the little boy gave as he reached out to try and grab the wriggling bundle.

"Gently, Ben." His father's voice carried back clearly on the early morning breeze. "He's just a baby; we don't want to hurt him."

She watched, transfixed, as Grissom took his son's hand and slowly drew it back across the puppy's head and could hear, just as clearly, the child's delighted laughter at this new discovery.

"You have to tell him; you know that, right?"

Snapped out of the trance she hadn't even realised she'd been in, Sara turned her back on the scene and frowned at the man beside her. She had woken that morning feeling somewhat better than she had the day before, the cathartic venting of the anger and hurt she'd been bottling up leaving her with both a feeling of relief and a grudging acceptance that she hadn't really though possible, but the physical manifestation of her conscious that had all but glued himself to her side since his arrival after shift was becoming more than a little annoying.

"Yes, Greg, I do realise that," She rolled her eyes, hoping he'd take the hint and leave her alone. "And I will… when the time is right," Keeping her voice low so as not to be overheard, she gestured vaguely towards the others seated around the plant-filled patio. "I can hardly do it here though, can I?"

"No, you can't do it here." Greg agreed, his voice no more than a whisper. "But it's going to have to be soon; for all you know he's going to disappear again as soon as the funeral's over and then what are you going to do?"

"It's not going to come to that." She raised her hands as if in surrender. "I told you earlier that I'll be seeing him this afternoon but I'll be playing it by ear, okay? He's just lost his mother so maybe it'd be kinder to let him process that first before I hit him with the news that he isn't exactly the divorced man he thinks he is." Looking across the low table that graced the centre of the decked patio they were seated on, she started sightly as she realised Jim Brass was unashamedly watching the two of them. "But, for the moment, just give it a rest, will you?" Forcing a smile for the ex-detective's benefit, she hissed lowly at her companion. "I really don't think everyone else needs to know about this."

"He's a handsome little fellow." With coffee pot in hand, Al Robbins offered it around the small group surrounding him before refilling his own cup and sitting back in his seat. "Gil's doing a good job with him."

"Yeah, he is." Sipping from her own cup, Catherine nodded her agreement. "And for a kid who spent his first couple of days in the NICU, Ben's doing great."

Robbins frowned at the comment.

"There were problems with the birth?" Nick asked, his curiosity coming to the fore.

"Not with the birth exactly." Catherine cast a quick, harried glance in Jim's direction, before going on. "Ben arrived a couple of weeks early and was a little on the small side plus there were some tests the doctors needed to run on him." She cocked her chin towards the garden and the now approaching threesome down below. "Not that you'd know it now, of course; he's a sturdy little guy and he's hitting all of his milestones exactly when he should." She grinned. "Or, if you ask Gil, he's hitting them early but I'm pretty sure that's that whole proud father thing coming out."

"They share custody?" Al asked, his forehead furrowed in concern. "Gil and the mother?"

"No, Grissom has sole custody." Jim butted in, his tone a little harder than it probably should have been. "And he and Ben are doing just fine; if you ask me, they're both better off without her."

"I think we've got a taker for one of the puppies." Making her way up the wooden steps that led from the lawn to the patio, Judy Robbins grinned happily at her assembled guests. "Ben's definitely a dog lover."

"As is his father," Grissom pointed out as he carried the small boy around the table to his seat. "But I've got enough on my plate as it is at the moment without adding a dog to the mix." Picking up the small baby bottle on the table before him, he held it out for Ben to take and settled back in his chair as his son reclined against him, nursing happily on the remains of his formula. "Looks like you're in the clear for tomorrow, Cath; Judy all but demanded that I bring Ben here for the day."

"I didn't mind, you know," Catherine pointed out. "All I said was that mom would have to watch him during the morning since I've got that meeting over at The Eclipse." She shrugged towards the others. "Though how they found out I was back in town or why they felt the need to call a special meeting on a Sunday just for my benefit is a mystery."

"Been shirking your duties, Cath?" Nick asked with a grin.

"I have no interest in that place and they know it." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "As long as they keep sending me a check every month, they can run the place any way they want."

"It's all right, Catherine; I'd love to spend the day with Ben." Reaching across the table, Judy grabbed his foot and gave it a little shake. "We'll spend some more time in the garden and play with the doggies, won't we, sweetheart?"

Tiring quickly, Ben managed a lazy smile and a small chuckle at the action while Grissom narrowed his eyes at the woman before him. "As long as I don't come back to find I've got a new family member."

"I'll keep an eye on the two of them, Gil." Robbins promised him. "You're busy tomorrow?"

"Jim and I are going to head out to my place and pick up a couple of things." Noting that Ben was done with his bottle, he lifted it away and placed it back on the table. "If we leave about eight o'clock we should be back sometime around six."

"And where is it that you're living?" Greg asked, leaning forward to join the conversation.

"Flagstaff." Grissom told him, casting a quick glance in Sara's direction. "I've been involved in a joint project between the University of Northern Arizona and the state government for over a year now." He saw Sara's eyes darken at the revelation and shrugged self-consciously. "That's how I was able to visit my mom all those times; it's only a four hour drive away."

He sniffed the air, nose wrinkling slightly at the unmistakable odour wafting up from the weary boy on his lap, and smiled. "Okay, I think someone's giving me a hint here." Slipping his arm beneath his son's now lax legs, he pushed to his feet before turning to look, once again, at Judy Robbins. "Okay if I take him inside to change him? Then, perhaps, I should think about getting him home; he's about due for a sleep."

"Yes, yes, of course." Reaching past him, she lifted Ben's diaper bag and gestured towards the open kitchen doorway. "Come on, I'll show you through to the bathroom."

"Maybe we ought to get going too, huh, Greg?" Nick said, raising both arms above his head in a luxuriant stretch. "I don't know about you but it's way past my bedtime."

"Yeah, I think you're right." Heaving himself up out of his chair, Greg shot a quick knowing glance at the woman still seated beside him as he patted the outside of his pockets for his car keys. "I'll speak to you later, Sara, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Plastering what she hoped was a carefree smile on her face, Sara nodded as she reached for her previously forgotten coffee cup. "Later."

"I'll walk you out, guys." Pushing her seat back, Catherine linked her arm with Nick's as the trio headed towards the door.

"Want a top up, Sara?" Lifting the coffee pot once again, Al shook it and frowned. "Actually, I think I'll have to make a fresh pot." Seeing her about to protest, he held up a hand. "It'll only take me a minute and I could do with one myself anyway."

Turning in his seat, Jim followed Robbins careful progress as he made his way into the house before turning back to face the only other remaining guest with a wide smile.

"You're not busy tonight, are you, Sara?" Both eyebrows rose in question. "Haven't got any plans?"

"No, not particularly." She returned the smile with a curious one of her own. "Why?"

"Oh, I just though it'd be nice if the two of us got a chance to talk properly." Jim shrugged. "I could pick up some takeout and bring it over and we could catch up on things."

"Okay, that sounds nice." Leaning back, Sara relaxed in her seat. "I'd like that."

"Good, I'll be there about eight." Mirroring her actions, Jim leaned back too. "And maybe when we're done you can fill me in on that little secret you and Sanders were whispering about before."

 **A/N:** Thanks, Sylvie :)


	7. Chapter 7

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 7 ~**

"This feels so strange." Sara commented as she looked around the large kitchen. "Being in this house without your mother, I mean. I've been having dinner with her here every month or so ever since I returned to Vegas but now…" She sighed heavily as she turned back around in her chair. "Well, it's hard to believe that's never going to happen again."

"I know." Tapping the spoon he was holding smartly against the edge of the pot, Grissom replaced the saucepan's lid and turned towards the refrigerator. "I've spent the past twenty-four hours expecting her to walk through the door any minute." He shrugged as he pulled out a small bowl of finely chopped tomato and placed it beside the cook top. He inhaled deeply and let it out as a single slow breath. "I know I'll get used to it eventually but, in the meantime…"

"It's hard." Sara finished for him; she'd made her mind up on the short drive over to keep this meeting as friendly and non-confrontational as possible and, so far, that resolve was working well. She nodded towards the cooker. "What are you making?"

"Risotto and butternut squash." He answered as he added a small knob of butter to a second pan. "Apart from his formula, I try to keep Ben away from commercial baby food as much as I can and, since he loves this stuff, I thought I'd make some up for him to take over to the Robbins' place tomorrow for lunch." He added the deseeded tomato to the melted butter and stirred it briskly. "Fresh is best, right?" He glanced over at her with a smile. "At least that's what you always said."

"I did and it is." She concurred, watching as he sprinkled a small amount of grated cheddar to the pot before folding the contents gently through the rice mixture. "That smells good."

"It is actually." Satisfied with the dish, Grissom placed the lid back on the pan and pulled it off the cook top to cool. "He wasn't all that sure about it the first time I made it so I coaxed him into trying it by eating some myself." Reaching across the granite bench top, he flicked the switch on the electric kettle before pulling two mugs from the overhead cupboard. "Green tea okay?" He glanced over with a smile. "I found a packet of tea bags in here this morning and, since my mother was a devout coffee drinker, I'm going to hazard a guess she bought them for you."

"She did." Sara confirmed, watching intently as he poured boiling water into both cups. "Like I said, I used to come round and see her each month."

"Yeah, I wanted to thank you for that." Carrying the cups over, he placed one carefully in front of her before pulling out the chair opposite and taking a seat. "For keeping in touch with her, I mean. I know it meant a lot to Mom and it means a lot to me too; I really appreciate that you made that effort." He sipped at his tea, grimacing at the heat of the liquid before continuing. "I want to make sure that you know just how much she was against my decision to keep my life and Ben's existence from you. She hated having to lie to you, Sara, she really did."

"I kind of guessed that she was doing it to order." Running her fingertip around the edge of her cup, Sara looked up with a slight smile. "If there's one thing I'll always remember about your mother it's that she was a very…," She paused for a moment, searching for an apt description. "Forthright person; she was never afraid to let you know what was on her mind and she rarely kept anything back so her keeping quiet about something as important as the birth of her grandchild seemed way out of character."

"Oh, I took some flak for that, I promise." Grissom looked across with a sheepish grin. "She was so proud of him and wanted everyone to know it but I thought it would just be easier if we kept it to ourselves for a while; after all, at that stage I had absolutely no intention of returning to Vegas at all so it seemed like the best way to keep any hurt to a minimum." One shoulder rose in an almost casual shrug. "To you, I mean, I knew it would hurt you to be told that I now had a child."

"You're right, it would have." For the first time since she'd arrived at the house, Sara didn't bother to mask her feelings. "But it hurt more to look up at that airport and see you standing there with him in your arms." She drew in a ragged breath. "I should have been told, Gil; you owed me that at least."

One look into the pain-filled eyes of the woman seated across from him was enough to let Grissom know exactly how wrong his actions – or lack of - had been; he hadn't saved her anything by cutting all contact and keeping his secret, instead, he realized suddenly, he'd done the exact opposite.

"I'm sorry." It was a simple but heartfelt statement. "If I'd known -"

"If you'd known!" Sara huffed out a mirthless laugh. "How could you not have known? How could you not have realised how it would feel to have the man I love," She looked up, locking eyes gone hard, with his. "The only man I've _ever_ loved, do something like that to me?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Jeez, I know you can be clueless at times, Gil but you _seriously_ couldn't work that out yourself?"

Quickly dropping her gaze down towards the table, Sara took a deep, refreshing breath before looking up again.

"Catherine said something about him being born prematurely." Calm restored, she raised her cup and took a small sip before continuing. "Is he all right?"

"Yes, Ben's perfectly fine." Watching her closely, Grissom nodded. "He was a little less than a month early really, he was what they call a late pre-term baby; it was his weight that was an issue more than anything, he just scraped in at five pounds when he was born."

"Wow." Sara raised an eyebrow at the news. "He _was_ a little one."

"Yeah, he was," Grissom agreed before taking a breath. "But there was something else too." He sighed deeply, realizing now that he had to make a full confession. "There was a very real chance that Ben was going to be born with Foetal Alcohol Syndrome." He locked eyes with Sara and suddenly found himself unable to look away. "His mother is an alcoholic." He shrugged. "A functioning one for the most part but an alcoholic nonetheless."

"And you knew that?" Part question, part accusation, Sara forgot all about her vow of pacifism as she glared indignantly at him. "How the hell could you have a baby with someone like that?"

"I didn't know it actually and, truth be told, I didn't choose to have a child with anyone." Bristling at the sudden tone, Grissom pushed his cup towards the middle of the table and sat up straighter in his seat. "I met Melissa out in Gainesville, she worked in admin at the University and the only real contact I had with her was when she drove out to the research station I was working from to pick up the weekly reports." He shrugged nonchalantly. "She was nice but in all the months I was there, I really don't think we said much more than a couple of dozen words to each other.' Raising his hand, he ran it roughly through his hair as he continued. "Then we had a really bad week; the research was not panning out the way we thought it would, funding was being cut all over the place and the project was about to fold and… well, let's just say, nothing was going right so, on the way home one night, I decided to stop for a drink." He shook his head at the memory. "I'd been sitting at the bar for all of five minutes when Melissa pulled out the stool next to mine and insisted on ordering me another bourbon." He looked up. "I should have refused it, I really only went in there for one but I didn't and the next thing I know I'm buying the next round and, eventually, one thing led to another, I guess."

"You guess?" Sara didn't even attempt to hide the incredulity in her voice. "How the hell could you be so stupid? You barely knew the woman; she could have been anyone, she could have _had_ anything! Did you even think of that at the time?"

"I wasn't thinking though," Grissom told her honestly. "Obviously, if I had been, I never would have done any of it. I never would have had that much to drink, I never would have ended up in a motel room and I never would have woken up the next day with the worst hangover of my life knowing only too well what had happened but hoping against hope that it hadn't." He shook his head. "And then I wouldn't have opened my front door in Arizona seven and a half months later to find a pregnant woman standing there telling me I was about to become a father."

"Well at least you have the good sense to regret it." Sara commented dryly as she twirled her finger round and round the handle of her cup.

"That's the thing though, Sara; I don't." Staring straight across the table at her, Grissom's mouth quirked up in an easy smile. "Because to say I regret it is to say I regret Ben and there is nothing in this world that is more important to me than that little boy."

At the words, Sara's voice hardened even further. "And his mother?"

"Like I said, Melissa's back in Florida getting on with her life." He raised one shoulder in an easy shrug. "I'm grateful to her for giving birth to my son and then trusting me to take better care of him than she believed she could herself but that's as far as my feelings towards her go."

"So she takes off and now you get to play happy families, huh?" There was no mistaking the sarcasm in her voice. "Just you and your baby son."

"I, uh…" Pausing mid-sentence, a frown furrowed Grissom's brow as he stared at the woman opposite. "You know, I had no problem meeting up with you and going over all of this, Sara, because you're right, the least I owe you is an explanation but let me ask a question of my own, okay?" He waited a beat for a response but, with none forthcoming, he carried on. "Have you ever actually said Ben's name?"

"What?" Taken aback, Sara blinked in surprise at the sudden query.

"It's something that just occurred to me." Grissom explained. "Listening to you then and realising that not once have I ever heard his name come out of your mouth. I've heard you say _the_ baby, _the_ child, your son but I've never actually heard you say his name."

"I must have." Suddenly finding herself on the back foot, Sara scrambled to answer the question. "This is the fourth time we've been together since you got back, I'd have had to use his name at some stage during that time."

"Uh-uh." Locking eyes with hers, Grissom shook his head. "You know, I'd really hoped that we could be adult enough to move beyond the mess our marriage became and maybe end up being friends again but I guess Jim was right and I was being naive." A thin cry echoed through the otherwise silent house and looking down at his watch, Grissom sighed. "The funny thing is, the only thing I really want for Ben at the moment is for him to know that he is cared for and protected by the people around him and, for a little while there, I'd hoped one of those people might have been you." Pushing back his seat, he got to his feet before looking down at her with a sad smile. "I love you, Sara, I always have and I probably always will but I don't want my son exposed to anger and resentment because of what happened between the two of us so I think, for all of our sakes, we need to make a completely clean break of things and I really think we need to make it now."

 **A/N:** An extra special thanks goes to SylvieT for taking time out of her annual pilgrimage to beta this chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 8 ~**

Settling himself more comfortably on the cosy chenille-covered sofa, Jim Brass propped his feet up on the edge of the coffee table before him and cracked opened his second bottle of Coors Light as he carefully watched the woman opposite. Seated in what he knew to be a favourite armchair, Sara's current posture of legs drawn up tightly beneath her and arms crossed defensively across her chest was in stark contrast to the carefree, apparently happy, demeanour she'd carried throughout dinner. That meal, though, had been spent catching up on what they'd both been up to in the months since their last meeting whilst the current conversation had veered onto a much more serious path.

"So you waited just long enough for him to leave the room and then walked out, huh?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Sara answered, her fingers wrapped firmly around her own beer. "He all but handed me an ultimatum."

"You also said he accused you of not being an adult." Raising his drink to his lips, Brass took a hearty swig before putting it back down with a grin. "Guess you proved him right on that point then."

"Don't start on me, Jim." Leaning forward, Sara placed her bottle down on the table as she stared at the ex-detective. "It's been a long day and I'm probably more tired than I have been in ages so if you plan to sit there and do nothing but make smartass comments you can grab what's left of your pizza and beer and leave because I'm really not in the mood for a fight."

"You don't fight though, Sara." Brass pointed out evenly. "You turn tail and run which is exactly what you did this afternoon." He shook his head. "I know neither you nor Gil is really the confrontational type but sometimes a good old no-holds barred, knock out, drag down fight can be the quickest way to set the world to rights." A single eyebrow rose in defiance as Sara readied herself to interject. "And I'm not taking sides, okay?" He paused for a second. "No, actually, I take that back because I am, I'm going to take Ben's side in all of this because, as far as I can see, he's the only guilt-free party in this whole messy thing that the two of you have got going."

"We have nothing going." Sara assured him curtly.

"You sure?" Jim queried, brow furrowing in thought. "Because I could have sworn that you said just a little while ago that both of you confessed to loving the other earlier today." Raising his bottle again, he held it aloft, poised to drink. "Which sure sounds like something to me."

"I did… we did… but-"

"But what?" Staring at her now, Brass pushed the point. "But Ben?" He shook his head. "Was Gil right in asking that question, Sara? Have you ever actually said that child's name?"

She stared openly at him for a full minute before sighing heavily.

"You know, I've tried thinking back over the past couple of days and I'm really not sure." Knowing from long experience that the detective would neither give up on his line of questioning nor be fobbed off, Sara opted for the truth. "It hasn't been intentional; it's just his…" She stopped for a moment, then audibly swallowed before pushing on. " _Ben_ 's existence came as somewhat of a shock; I guess I'm still trying to process it."

"Well do it faster." Brass suggested. "He's not some abstract concept, you know; he's a living, breathing child - your ex-husband's child – and he's innocent in all of this." He shrugged. "You can't ignore that fact and you can't hold anything against that little boy either."

"I don't." Sara hastened to assure him. "I just… I have to get used to the idea." She dropped her gaze to her lap then bit her lip and looked up again. "But you're wrong about one thing, you know; he's not my ex-husband's son." She cocked her head to one side as she met Jim's gaze with a steady one of her own. "He's my husband's son; Gil and I are still married."

"Excuse me?" In the process of taking a sip from his beer, Jim almost spat it across the room at her statement. "

"I never actually filed the divorce papers." Sara admitted sheepishly. "I meant to, don't get me wrong, we'd been legally separated for almost a year and it seemed like the…" She shrugged, helplessly. "I don't know, the next logical step, I suppose." She sighed heavily. "So I had my attorney draw up the papers, signed them myself and sent them off to Gil but, when I got them back I just couldn't do it; I couldn't bring myself to make it final."

"Holy shit." Shaken by the revelation, Jim could only stare. "But you told Grissom that you did."

"No, actually, I didn't." Sara underlined the statement with a determined shake of the head. "In fact, until I managed to get hold of him on the phone the other day, we haven't spoken since I called to get his mailing address. I tried phoning him back when I realised that I couldn't go through with the divorce but that's when I discovered he'd changed his cell phone number and email address."

"And you never thought of trying to get hold of him in some other way?" Leaning forward, Brass placed his now-forgotten beer bottle on the table. "You could have let his mother know or Catherine or even me; hell, Sara, I'd have been on the phone to him before you even hung up." Raising his hand, he rubbed agitatedly at one temple as he looked across at her. "Like I said, this thing is a mess."

"Well it's not all my fault." Sara countered, her irritation at the way the conversation was going plain to see. "After all, I'm not the one who was unfaithful, remember; I'm not the one who had a kid with someone else."

"Unfaithful?" Jim exclaimed with a derisive laugh. "I'm pretty damned sure you can't be unfaithful unless you know you're supposed to be faithful in the first place." His eyes suddenly turned hard. "Do your maths, Sara; the two of you were legally separated and, when that's the case, an uncontested divorce in the state of Nevada will go through the courts in less than a week; so, considering that Ben was conceived about a month after his father signed those damned papers, I'm really not sure I'd go around accusing him of being unfaithful if I were you." He dropped his head and ran his hand roughly across his shortly cropped hair. "God, Sara, when he phoned me in a panic ten months ago and said that his son had just been born, he went to great pains to make sure that I knew he'd never cheated on you. That's the one thing he was worried about people…" He looked up again. "About you, thinking; that Ben was the result of an affair." His eyes widened in question. "So how the hell is he going to take this?"

"I don't know." One slim shoulder rose in a shrug as Sara returned his stare. "I've been trying to work out the best way to tell him, the best _time_ to tell him but-" She leaned forward and snagged her beer again. "I just don't know how or when." She took a small sip from the bottle. "Did you go to him then? When he called you that day?"

"Yeah, I kind of had to." Leaning back, Jim made a conscious effort to relax again. "After he told me the rest of it, about the baby being in intensive care and the mother taking off from the hospital the way she did, I couldn't just leave him there alone." Reclaiming his own bottle, he took a mouthful. "I got in the car and high-tailed it down to Flagstaff; I was with him at the hospital before nightfall."

"She left that day?" Sara frowned at that particular piece of news. "The mother, I mean."

"Yep, signed herself out of the hospital four hours after the birth." Brass shook his head in amazement. "She'd told Gil to stay with Ben which he did until he was assured everything was fine and when he went down to tell her the good news, all he found in her room were the legal papers giving him full custody."

"How does someone do that?" Staring fixedly at the beer bottle in her hand, Sara picked at the label. "What kind of _mother_ does that?"

"I don't know" Jim admitted. "The same kind that only tones down her drinking when she discovers she's pregnant and doesn't cut it out completely, I guess." He paused a moment before going on. "But I do know it's not the first time she's done it; she walked out on a husband and _two_ kids almost a decade ago, one of whom has developmental delays caused by her mother's alcoholism." He shook his head. "It was just pure luck that Ben turned out okay."

She looked up. "How did you manage to find out about that?"

"About a month after Ben's arrival, Gil asked me to see if I could track Melissa down." Sara's frown deepened at the news but Jim pushed on regardless. "He wanted to make sure that she was alright, both physically and mentally, with what she'd done. I traced her back to Gainesville, back to the university where they met actually and, while she all but refused to talk to me herself, she did put me in touch with a friend of hers who told me to let Gil know that Melissa was perfectly fine with her decision, that she was in the process of setting up a child support order for Ben and that she definitely wanted no further contact with either of them whatsoever." He shrugged. "It was after that that I did a little further digging and found out about the husband and kids and that's what Gil and Catherine were doing in Raleigh when you phoned to tell him about Betty; Ben was meeting his half-sisters."

"Well he certainly picked a winner, didn't he?" Sara didn't bother even attempting to mask the sarcasm. "Of all the woman to have a baby with."

"Yeah well, he's not the first idiot to hit the bottle and do something stupid and I doubt he'll be the last." Jim shrugged. "But, considering how things could have gone, I can't help but think that it turned out pretty well; I mean, he may not be too comfortable with the way his son came into being but Gil adores that boy and he's proud as hell of him." He allowed himself a smile. "This past 10 months or so have been the making of Gil Grissom – his life used to revolve around work and research and bugs but now it's all playgroups and parks and teaching a little boy everything he can about the world he's brought him into and, unless I'm very much mistaken, Grissom is having the time of his life." He glanced at his watch and realised he was going to have to start making tracks. "Look, Sara, this whole thing might be a mess like I said but it's a mess that can probably be handled pretty simply." Draining the last of his beer, he screwed the cap on the bottle and slid it back onto the table. "If you file the paperwork now, the two of you could probably have the divorce finalised by the end of the month at the latest." Meeting her gaze, he cocked his head. "Provided that's the way you want to go, of course."

She didn't look away but she didn't answer either and Jim frowned before cocking his head and prompting her. "Sara?"

"I don't know." Eyes locked firmly with his, her shoulders rose in an almost imperceptible shrug. "That's a question I've been asking myself for days now and I just can't come up with an answer; I'm really not sure that I know what I want and I sure as hell don't know what to do."

"Okaaay," Brass drew the word out as he thought. "How about we look at it from a different angle, huh? Do you still want Gil?"

"Well, that, at least, is something that I can answer." Sara told him with a sad smile. "He's all I've ever wanted; the problem is I don't know if can have him now, not after everything that's happened." She sighed wearily. "Not after Ben."

"Don't make Ben the major issue here, Sara." Jim advised. "And trust me on this because I'm speaking from experience, okay? There's a hell of a lot I regret about my marriage and the way it turned out but being Ellie's dad, biological or not, isn't one of them. A child is the easiest thing in the world to accept, you know, especially if you happen to love his father."

She dropped her head, staring back down at her lap and Jim scooted far enough forward on the sofa so that he could reach across to take her hand.

"Look, the two of you really need to talk, okay; you're going to have to tell him that he's still married for a start and then you both need to sit down and hammer this damned thing out until you decide exactly what it is that you're going to do." He cocked his head. "And, given what happened last time you tried, it would probably be best to do it somewhere _you_ can't just run away from when things get tough." He frowned for a moment then looked at her with a sudden smile. "You got any plans for tomorrow?"

"No," Sara looked up, wary of the look she was now receiving. "Not really."

"Good," Jim's smile quickly morphed into a grin. "Because you do now."


	9. Chapter 9

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 9 ~**

Pulling the Maxima to a halt in his mother's driveway, Grissom shoved the transmission into park, pulled on the emergency brake then yanked the keys from the ignition before climbing out to confront his surprise visitor.

"Whatever it is, Sara it's going to have to wait; Jim will be here any minute and, as soon as he arrives, we're hitting the road."

"Actually he can't make it." Slipping her own car keys into the front pocket of her jeans, Sara pushed herself away from the side of the Prius as he approached. She'd slept surprisingly well the night before; her talk with Brass seeming to flush the remnants of anger and resentment from her system but, standing here now, knowing that the future of their relationship – be it good or bad – teetered on the brink, made her stomach knot with an anxiety she was determined not to show. "He called early this morning and suggested that I take his place."

"Well he shouldn't have." Rounding the front of the Nissan, Grissom came to a halt before her. "If he'd phoned and told _me_ that instead, I'd have been on my way straight after I dropped Ben at the Robbins' place; I wouldn't have had to come back here and waste fifteen minutes of my time."

"Don't be like that..." His annoyance was clear to see but Sara ignored it as she stepped forward. "Please?" She shrugged. "You asked Jim to go along with you for a reason; it's a long and boring drive when you're by yourself and, since I'm pretty much the only one who's not busy today, it makes sense that I tag along."

"I've been doing it by myself at least once a fortnight for a while now so once more is not going to be a problem." Grissom insisted.

"But you weren't by yourself." Sara pointed out evenly. "You had Ben in the back." She noted the single raised eyebrow that her use of the baby's name caused but continued. "And, although he might not be the greatest conversationalist at the moment, he is, at least, someone to talk to." She smiled. "If you like, just think if me the same way."

"I'm really not sure I want to talk to you just now." Jingling his keys in his hand, Grissom didn't even attempt to hide his annoyance at her unexpected presence. "And there's the added problem that, if you walk out on me while we're out of state, there's a very real chance that I'll leave you there."

"Well, that's a risk that I'm willing to take but I think it's only fair to warn you that there'll be no more walking out by me, here or anywhere else." She shrugged, embarrassed by her chosen method of departure the day before. "It was stupid and selfish and I had no right taking off the way I did." She sighed. "I told Jim about it during dinner last night and he made me see just how foolish the whole thing was; it was disrespectful to you and to your son and I apologise for that; I never should have left that way."

"No, you shouldn't." Anger abating, Grissom readily concurred. "Do you have any idea how I felt when I finally got him settled and came back out only to find that you'd gone?"

"I imagine it was pretty much the way I know I'd feel if you'd done the same thing to me." Sara told him truthfully. "Look, we have a nine or ten hour window here where we can, hopefully, get some real talking done and maybe work out where we go from here without outside influences or distractions or-"

"Or Ben?"

The pissed off tone was back but Sara refused to bite.

"I was _not_ going to say that; Ben is your son, I get that and I'm working to accept it but that's going to be pretty hard to do if you won't give me a chance." Sara cocked her head to one side as she locked eyes with his. "I know he's your number one priority now, Gil, and I know you'd protect him with your life but I really don't like the thought that you feel the need to protect him from me."

Grissom said nothing, fixing her with a long, dubious stare instead and Sara raised both hands in supplication.

"Look, we can head back to Doc Robbins place and pick him up if you like." She smiled, hoping that the nerves and unease she was battling didn't show on her face. "I am perfectly happy for him to come with us if that's what you want."

"No, I don't think so." Grissom gave his head a determined shake as shifted the keys in his hand. "I've battled that damned car seat for the last time."

He raised his free hand, ran it roughly through his hair and turned to stare at the Maxima behind him as he weighed up the pros and cons of the idea. He'd been truthful when he'd told Brass that he didn't want bad blood between them but Sara's clear contempt when she'd spoken to him yesterday coupled with her barely masked hostility towards Ben had shocked him. However, this was a woman he'd known for years, had loved for years, and he knew, deep down, that she'd simply been lashing out. He'd hurt her deeply, countless times, just as she'd hurt him but he'd also trusted her with his heart, with his life - he sighed heavily as he slowly swung back to face her - surely he could at least try to trust her now.

"Okay, you win." He gestured towards the passenger side of the Nissan. "Get in."

* * *

"So…" The first two and half hours of their trip had been spent on small talk, almost meaningless comments about the weather, the traffic and the never-ending, never-changing desert scenery that they found themselves travelling through. Sara had watched him carefully during that time, noting both the lighter, friendlier tone to his voice as he'd spoken to her along with the clear signs of relaxation as he'd eased into the mechanics of piloting the Nissan first southbound on US-93 and then east on Interstate 40. "What exactly is it that you've been working on in Flagstaff?"

"I've been conducting an entomological survey of the area around Humphrey's Peak." Pulling his attention from the blacktop ahead, Grissom looked across at her. "It's a joint project between the university and the Arizona government to, first of all, find out just how ecologically sound that area is; and, second, to set a baseline that the biology department will be able to use in the future for its fieldwork programs." He turned back to the road. "I spend a couple of days a week hiking the trails up there and, when I find a suitable area, I cordon off a decent section and then log every thing with either six or eight legs that I find in that particular spot." He raised one shoulder in an almost nonchalant shrug. "They have a botanist and an ecologist who are doing the same sort of thing up there too so, between us, we've given them a really good picture of just how healthy that area is."

"Given them?" Sara queried, twisting towards him just as far as her seatbelt allowed. "The contract's over now."

"That contract, yes." Grissom nodded. "They offered all three of us extensions though; they want the same thing done out at Sunset Crater." He glanced across. "I haven't given them my answer yet though; I was thinking of moving back to Vegas to be with Mom." He shrugged. "I wanted her to be able to spend as much time with Ben as possible."

"She'd have liked that." Sara smiled sadly. "And I'm sure she'd have been delighted at the thought of having you back home again."

"Yeah, she was." He sighed. "It's just a pity that it didn't work out that way." He cleared his throat before continuing. "I, ah… I have a favour to ask; the funeral home called me this morning about dropping off an outfit for her to wear and I have absolutely no idea what sort of thing she'd like." His lips turned up in a self-conscious smile. "I don't suppose you'd be able to help me out with that, would you?

"Of course I will." Reaching across the center console, Sara laid her hand lightly on his arm. "We'll have a look and see what we can come up with when we get back."

"Thanks" Glancing briefly down at her hand, Grissom returned his attention to the road just in time to note the signpost they were approaching. "You feel like stopping for coffee and something to eat? There's a great little place up ahead that's home to some of the best burgers in Arizona."

"How far out of Flagstaff are we?" Sara asked checking her watch.

"A little less than an hour." He told her. "Not far, I know but I could do with the break."

"I can take over the driving if you like." Sara offered. "I really don't mind."

"You say that now but I guarantee you'll change your mind the minute you're behind the wheel; I swear this damn car is haunted." Grissom shook his head. "It's okay, I'm used to its quirks now and I've come this far so I might as well take it the rest of the way." He looked across with an easy grin. "But first I need some coffee and maybe one of those burgers."

"Do they cater to vegetarians?" Sara asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously; she knew from long experience that the closest many of the truck stops and roadhouses that littered the highways came to meat-free meals was a two day old salad sandwich.

"I think this place caters to everyone." He told her with an easy smile. "Come on, I'll buy you an early lunch."

Thirty minutes later, seated comfortably in a vinyl and chrome booth that appeared to have been transported straight out of the 1950's, Sara drained the last of the coffee from her cup then sighed in appreciation as she wiped the last remnants of mayonnaise from her fingers. "Well, you were right about the burgers here; I think that was probably the tastiest black bean burger that I've ever had."

"I hate to say I told you so but…" Grissom nodded down at his own empty plate. "I'm probably going to end up paying for that green chili burger but it was worth the heartburn." Raising his cup, he took a sip. "So, how are things at the lab nowadays?"

"Okay, I guess." Crossing her arms on the table, Sara frowned. "We're always busy, that never changes, but," She paused for a moment as the waitress slid a small silver plate with their bill onto the tabletop between them. "There have been so many changes in the place over the past couple of years, the dynamic's completely different now." She shrugged. "I don't know, sometimes I'd kill to have all of us back together again, the original team, I mean." She chuckled. "Hell, Hodges was probably at his most annoying at that time but I'd even be willing to put up with him."

She saw the change in his demeanour instantly, noted the almost imperceptible darkening of his eyes and the way his jaw muscles tensed as he quickly shifted his attention to the bill before him. "Yeah, well, like Thomas Wolfe once said 'You can't go home again.'" He pulled two twenties from his pocket and placed them down beneath the bill before sliding out of the booth. "Come on, we'd better get going."

The remainder of the drive was conducted in silence; Sara's confused and introspective whilst Grissom's took on a more dark and brooding tone that almost tainted the air around them.

They followed I-40 through the outskirts of Flagstaff to South Milton Road and, after a quick check of the rental office's address, Grissom turned the Nissan right and continued north.

"What did I say?" Unable to stand the strained atmosphere any longer, Sara decided to speak up. "We were getting on so well over lunch and then you just shut down on me."

"Nothing, okay; it wasn't anything you said." Noting the car ahead beginning to slow, Grissom looked past it to the highset traffic lights at the next intersection and cursed under his breath as he watched them turn red. "It really doesn't matter, Sara." He stared straight ahead as he tapped his fingers impatiently against the top of the steering wheel. ""Let's just get this damned car back where it belongs, grab mine and head back to Vegas."

"So you're not going to tell me?" Sara's voice had a decidedly icy tinge as she shook her head. "I thought we were being honest with one another; I thought that was how this was supposed to work."

Up ahead the light turned green and Grissom shifted his foot from the brake to the accelerator and allowed the car to slowly roll forward as the sedan in front moved into the intersection.

"Honest?" He scoffed. "You keep talking about honesty but it seems to me that that's a one way street around here." He sped up slightly. "You want me to be honest about everything but the same doesn't go for you, does it?" Pulling his eyes from the road, he turned to look at her. "Because if it did, sometime in the past couple of days, you might have found it in you to tell me about that man in the hotel room; you know, the one Ronald Basderic tried to frame you with."

He watched as Sara's eyes widened and her mouth opened as if to speak but he never heard her say a word as the bright blue pickup that had just run the red light on the intersection's crossroad ploughed head-on into the driver's side of the Maxima.


	10. Chapter 10

**Oakwood Close**

 **~ Chapter 10 ~**

* * *

 **A/N 1:** I have two people I need to thank this time: SylvieT for being, without a doubt, _the_ best beta around and JellybeanChiChi for her advice and assistance with the second author's note at the end of this chapter.

* * *

Pulling her hand back as the last of her dollar bills was sucked into the vending machine, Sara pressed '1' on the adjacent keyboard and watched as a bottle of spring water rolled out of its slot and fell into the dispenser below. She took a deep steadying breath and bent carefully to retrieve the drink from the machine then, after a quick scan of the waiting area, walked slowly across the busy room and eased herself down into the nearest of the two empty chairs.

Balancing the bottle on her knee, she cracked it open and took a single cautious sip; her jaw ached with the movement and the tiny split in her lower lip - deep enough to hurt like hell but not, according to the E.R. doctor, to warrant stitching – stung sharply as the ice-cold plastic touched it. She screwed the cap back on and held it tightly in her lap as she stared up at the large wall clock opposite; it had been over ninety minutes since her own release from the emergency room, surely she wouldn't have to wait too much longer.

"Ms. Sidle?"

Sara started slightly at the sound of her name but pushed quickly to her feet as the same young doctor that had initially treated her approached with an easy smile.

"Well, you were right when you told me about your husband's stubborn streak." Placing his hand lightly on her elbow, he gently steered her away from the waiting room and into the corridor beyond. "I've been trying for the past fifteen minutes to get him to agree to an overnight stay for observation but he's adamant about going home." He stepped smartly out of the way of a fast-moving wheelchair before continuing. "I've just given him something for his headache and he's agreed to stay where he is for another half hour to let it kick in but then we'll be cutting him loose. I'll need you to keep a close eye on him for the next 24 hours though; if the pain gets worse, you have trouble waking him up or he just doesn't seem right to you, then he'll have to be brought back in, whether he wants to come or not." A single eyebrow quirked up in question. "Think you can manage that?"

"I can handle him." Sara assured him with a smile. "To tell you the truth, I'm dying to get out here myself."

"I imagine you do." Leaning casually against the wall beside him, the doctor crossed both arms across his chest. "From what I've been told of the accident, you were both incredibly lucky."

"Yeah, I guess we were," Sara nodded her agreement. "Gil especially." She shifted uncomfortably on the hard linoleum floor. "When I finally got my senses back and turned to look at him after the collision, I honestly thought he was dead."

"Well I doubt he's considering himself lucky at the moment not with six stitches in his forehead, two cracked ribs and concussion to top it all off." The doctor nodded towards her. "And then there are your injuries, of course; it's not like you got off scot-free."

"Oh, I'm fine." Sara quickly shrugged off the comment. "And, trust me, Gil will think himself incredibly lucky when he sees the photos of the car they pulled us out of."

"Well," Glancing quickly at his watch, the doctor pushed himself upright and adjusted the stethoscope looped around his neck as he checked around for anyone who might overhear them. "I probably shouldn't tell you this but, according to the cop that was here earlier, the driver of the pickup blew 0.13 when they tested him and the only injury he got was a bloody nose so I guess he was lucky too." He shrugged. "But, considering the charges he's now facing, I think that may have run out. Look, I'll go finalise the paperwork and you can go keep your old man company." He cocked his head towards the other end of the corridor. "You'll find him in treatment room two."

"Thanks, doctor." With a smile of thanks, Sara watched him go then, casually tossing the near full water bottle in the closest trashcan, she turned and made her way carefully along the hallway to the treatment rooms beyond.

* * *

A single bright light, angled purposefully away from the metal-framed gurney that sat squarely in the middle of the treatment room, provided the only real illumination in the small, airless space as Sara entered it. The only sound present was the reassuringly regular beep of the heart monitor and she glanced upwards at the small LCD display behind the bed, noting the normal - at least to her untrained eye - peaks and troughs of the continuous tracing the ECG leads were providing.

Grissom lay, unmoving and apparently asleep, in the centre of the gurney; a sheet covering him up to mid torso level but even with the room's reduced light levels, Sara could clearly see the mottled bruising that marred the let side of his chest. A large white dressing decorated the area immediately above his left eye whilst directly below the orbit, yet more bruising swept down to encompass both the side of his nose and the cheekbone itself.

She sucked in a breath at the sight of him and, reaching out gingerly, lightly placed her hand over the nearest of his. "Hey." She gave the hand a gentle shake and leaned in as close as she could. "Gil? Are you awake?"

"Hey yourself." A single bloodshot eye opened at the words followed slowly by the other and, twisting his hand beneath hers, Grissom effortlessly wove his fingers between hers. "Are you all right? I asked the nurse who was in here before and she said she'd find out for me but she never came back." He narrowed his eyes, trying his best to study her in the gloom. "I've been worried."

"Oh, don't worry about me." Maintaining contact, Sara twisted slightly as she pulled the small room's only chair closer to the gurney and sat down. "I'm a little battered and bruised but I'll survive." She smiled reassuringly. "How about you?"

"The same I guess." Placated for the moment, Grissom exhaled audibly. "But I need to get out of here, Sara; I need to sort out something for Ben."

"You'll be out of here just as soon as the paperwork's finished, okay but, in the meantime, there's no need to worry about Ben." Squeezing his fingers, Sara smiled. "I called Catherine while I was in the waiting room and told her what had happened so she's going to borrow a car seat and pick up Ben on her way home this evening; he'll stay at her place tonight and she'll drop him back at the house when we get there tomorrow." She cocked her head to gauge his reaction and, seeing only relief, carried on. "I though we could spend tonight at your place and then head back to Vegas tomorrow some time; I'm really not sure either of us is up to making the drive tonight."

"That sounds good." Grissom's eyes narrowed with pain as he turned his head to look at her. "You can take my bed and I'll crash on the sofa; I've slept there before, it's not so bad."

"If you're going to crash anywhere it'll be in a bed." Sara insisted. "You're certainly not sleeping on a sofa with broken ribs."

"It's a two bedroom house, Sara so unless you think one of us will fit in Ben's crib, there's not really a lot of choice. I'll be fine, really."

"Well," Her eyes visibly sparkled with amusement in the muted light. "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before so I don't imagine there'll be any real harm in sharing one tonight." She grinned across at him. "Provided I can trust you, of course."

"I'm pretty sure you're safe." Shifting slightly on the gurney, Grissom winced in discomfort. "I think it's fair to say that I couldn't manage anything tonight if I tried." He watched her intently for a moment before speaking again. "I'm sorry, Sara, I really am." He gestured vaguely around the darkened room with his free hand. "This should never have happened."

"Sorry?" Sara frowned at both the words and the tone. "We were hit by another car, Gil; what on earth are you sorry for?"

"For not paying attention to the road, for almost getting us killed out there…" Grissom shrugged as best he could, sucking in a sharp breath as the movement sent pain radiating through his chest. "For bringing up a subject that I swore I never would."

"That…" Staring at him, Sara paused for a moment then shook her head. "You know, that's something I think we need to discuss at another time but I want you to be clear on one thing, okay? You aren't responsible for the actions of a drunk driver who, apparently, doesn't know right from wrong. H _e_ is the one that put us here not you; I don't blame you for any of this and there's no way I'm going to let you blame yourself."

"I guess it's just not our month then, huh?" Meeting her gaze, he offered her a sad smile. "Mom one week and then me the next; there seems to be some sot of conspiracy against Grissoms at the moment."

"Well," With a curt nod of her head, Sara smiled. "Now that we're aware of it, we Grissoms will just have to be more careful, won't we?"

"Yeah," Confusion darkened Grissom's eyes and he paused for a moment before continuing on. "I guess we will."

* * *

"Seriously, Greg, I'm fine." Stretching her legs out on the two-seater fabric sofa, Sara bit back the groan that would belie her words as she reached across to the coffee table for the cup of tea she'd placed there before making her call. "A couple of bruises, that's about all, otherwise I'm okay."

She sipped warily at the warm liquid, pleased to find that the action didn't elicit nearly as much discomfort as it had at the hospital and, emboldened, took a deeper, more satisfying drink. "Gil's okay too; he's sleeping at the moment and has been ever since we got here but the hospital said to expect that; I'm only supposed to really worry if I can't wake him up."

"Are you telling me the truth?" The barely restrained panic that had gripped Greg the moment he'd checked his email account was back with a vengeance. "I mean, I just glanced at the police report you had sent to me and went straight to the photos but-"

"Honestly, we're fine." Hearing the alarm in his voice, Sara hurried to reassure him. "Grissom took a decent hit to the head and is now sporting half a dozen stitches but, apart from concussion and some broken ribs, he's alright." She smiled. "We both are, okay? There's no need to worry." Leaning forward again, she replaced her cup on the table. "And the reason I had the Flagstaff Police email those pictures to you is because there's something seriously wrong with that Maxima and I want to find out exactly what that is."

"The report said something about the seatbelt failing. Hang on a second," The sound of rapidly turning paper drifted down the phone line and Sara waited silently while Greg found what he was looking for. "Here it is, they haven't managed to test it yet but they suspect there was a fault with the pretensioner on the driver's side."

"That's what I though." Sara nodded to herself. "When I saw him at the scene, Grissom was lying slumped over the steering wheel with blood pouring down his face; his seatbelt was still done up but it hadn't held him back like mine had." She sighed. "God Greg, if his airbag hadn't deployed… I hate to think what would have happened."

"It didn't though." Greg stated calmly. "And, like you said, you're both okay so that's the main thing, right?"

"Yeah but I still want that car checked out." Sara was adamant. "Gil said something about it having quirks and if it turns out that damned thing shouldn't have been on the road, let alone rented out then-"

"I'll see what I can find out." Greg promised quickly. "I'll check with Catherine and Brass too; if Grissom mentioned it to you then he's probably said something to one of them as well. Leave it with me, Sara; I'll get to the bottom of it for you."

Ten minutes later, satisfied that Greg would do her bidding, Sara rinsed her cup, grabbed her phone and after turning out the living room and kitchen lights of the small, neat house on Oakwood Close, padded silently through to the master bedroom.

She left the light on in the hallway outside, allowing it to spill in through the open door to light her path around the room as she quietly pulled open the second drawer down of the tall timber dresser that sat opposite the end of the bed. She smiled at the sight of the neatly folded t-shirts within - if there was one thing she'd learnt about Grissom during their time together it was that he was a creature of habit – then, fingering each lightly to test their softness, pulled out a well-worn navy blue shirt and placed it on the edge of the bed.

Leaving it for the moment, she rounded the far side of the bed and, easing herself down to her knees, rubbed two fingers lightly up and down the arms of her sleeping husband.

"Gil?" Getting no response, she rubbed a little harder. "Come on, Gil, wake up for me."

"I'm awake, I'm awake." With a weary sigh, Grissom opened his eyes and squinted bad temperedly at the clock on his bedside table. "How often do we have to do this again?"

"Every two or three hours according to the doctor." Deciding that mildly pissed off probably meant fine, Sara smiled at her patient. "But what does he know, huh?" She lightly swatted his arm. "Do you need anything or do you just want to go to sleep again."

"Sleep, definitely." Annoyance abating, Grissom managed a lazy smile. "And you need some too; it's been a long day."

"I know; I've just got to get changed." Pushing herself to her feet, Sara grabbed the t-shirt and headed for the room's small ensuite bathroom. "I'll be back in a minute."

Closing the door behind her, she took up a position in front of the only mirror and rolled her eyes at the sight that met her; her hair was a mess, errant strands flying off in all directions and there were smudges of what looked like either tyre black or road grime across one cheek. The brand new shirt she she'd picked out so carefully just that morning now looked like it had been pulled out of a dumpster and she glowered down at it as she rubbed at what could only be a smear of Grissom's blood.

Giving it up as a lost cause, she slowly unbuttoned the front of the garment, her fingers shaking slightly as the events of the day finally began to take a toll, then peeled both sides of the fabric apart exposing her own vivid contusion: a dark purple sash of bruising in an almost perfect diagonal stripe running from her right shoulder down to just above her left hip.

Sara winced as the sight of it and dabbed lightly at a couple of the darker patches before awkwardly reaching behind her back to undo her bra. She paused for a moment and allowed herself a few measured breaths before allowing it to drop to the floor then unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down and off. Pulling a towel from the nearby railing, she dampened one end and gave herself a quick wash before using the other end to dry off then slipped the buttery-soft t-shirt she'd commandeered over her head and tugged it down below her hips.

She left everything where it lay, they were both so tired that the odds were good neither would be coming into the bathroom before morning anyway, then flicked the light switch off, opened the door and stepped back into the bedroom itself.

Grissom's deep even breathing was the only sound in the room and, thanks to the thin bead of light still entering the room from the hallway, she could see he was, once again, out for the count. She moved to the bed and pulled back the covers before easing herself down beside him, the muscles of her back and shoulders tensing tightly as they touched the mattress before gratefully relaxing into it and, what seemed like moments later, Sara felt herself drift off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **A/N 2:** As authors we love reviews; it's great to know that the work we put into these stories is appreciated, the encouragement we get is fantastic and the comments and feedback that we receive helps us monitor what works and might not work within a storyline. However, we do not appreciate abuse and, unfortunately, there is a small group of people in this fandom who utilize the 'guest review' function as a platform for name calling, bullying and threats.

I made the decision at chapter 2 of Oakwood Close to moderate guest reviews (that means they will not be posted to the site until I clear them) after having to block one reader and delete two reviews that were, in my opinion, completely inappropriate. There have been 9 others that I've deleted since then and, to be honest, I'm sick to death of the damned things.

I don't want to stop people reviewing as guests. For the most part, the ones I get are just as nice and encouraging as those that come signed but I do want those people that think it's okay to tell an author how much you hate their story, their storyline, their writing style or to make nasty suggestions about exactly what they can do with their work that I don't even read the things anymore, I recognize _your_ writing style straightaway and hit delete so you might as well leave me and my story alone because you're simply wasting your time.

To the rest of you though please keep them coming, because genuine reviews, whether they come signed or not, are appreciated by those of us writing here more than you will ever know.


	11. Chapter 11

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 11 ~**

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks again to SylvieT for all the help and Happy Bacon Day, Jean!

* * *

Nestled snugly beneath the down-filled comforter, it took a while for the muffled, pain-filled sounds coming from the other side of the bed to register but, the moment that they did, both eyes snapped open and Sara was instantly awake.

"Are you all right?" She turned quickly in the bed, sucking in a sharp breath as her bruised chest and abdomen complained bitterly at the movement. "Gil? What's the matter?"

"It's nothing, I'll be fine." Grissom's voice was tight, the tone a little on the sharp side as the mattress jostled beneath him. "I'm just trying to work up the courage to stand." He gasped again as fresh pain erupted from his ribcage. "I'll be fine in a minute; I think I've just been lying in one position too long."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." Realisation dawning, Sara glanced past him to the digital clock on the bedside. "I was supposed to have woken you over two hours ago." Reaching across, she placed a gentle hand on his back. "You were due more Tylenol then too." She shrugged. "Some nurse I'd make, huh?"

"Well, since I didn't die in my sleep, there's no real harm done." Leaning forward slightly from his seated position on the side of the bed, Grissom wrapped his left arm tightly against his ribs and pushed to his feet before turning to face her with a weak but triumphant smile. "And now I can finally go to the bathroom."

"Well, while you do that, I'll sort out your meds and some water and then we'll see about getting you comfortable again." She rolled from the bed herself and watched as he walked gingerly towards the ensuite. "Just kick my clothes out the way when you get in there, I'll pick them up later."

"I'll have to," Grissom pointed out, flicking on the bathroom light. "I'm pretty sure they'd hear me screaming all the way down the block if I tried to bend down right now."

Leaving him to it, Sara pulled the bedroom door wide and made her way along the short hallway to the kitchen. She stared for a moment at the window and the pitch-black of the night outside and realized it had been years since she'd seen it so dark; given the amount of light pollution in Vegas and its surrounds, there were times when the city seemed to be bathed in an almost constant twilight with nothing like the true inky darkness that she was looking at now. Pulling her attention away from the window, she grabbed the large pack of acetaminophen and, stopping by the fridge, pulled out one of the small bottles of water she'd noticed earlier. She'd just stepped back into the bedroom when she heard the toilet flush and Grissom pulled open the door beside her.

"Better?" She paused to let him go ahead, frowning at the sound of his shallow breathing and at just how pale his complexion looked against the bruises that marred his eye and cheek.

"Much." Leading the way carefully around the bed, Grissom eased himself back down in the exact same spot he'd been minutes earlier then sighed audibly in relief. "You know, it took me five minutes just to swing my legs out of bed and another five to actually get up." He deepened his breathing, cautiously gauging just how much of a breath he could take before the pain kicked in. "I had a horrible feeling things were about to get embarrassing."

"You should have woken me." Popping two tablets out of their packaging, Sara handed them over, before cracking open the water bottle and holding it out as well. "Headache isn't any worse?" She narrowed her eyes as she watched him swallow. "No nausea or double vision?"

"The headache's annoying but not much different than it was before I fell asleep," Grissom confirmed, pulling the Tylenol box from one of her hands while he pressed the water bottle into the other. "And I'd tell you if I had any other symptoms, I promise." He slipped a second card of tablets from the box and quickly freed two pills before holding them out to her. "Here, your turn; I heard that sound you made before when you turned on the bed and I don't for a minute think that you walked away from that accident without a scratch."

"I don't need them; it's just a little bruising." Pulling her hands away, Sara shook her head. "Really, I'm fine, just a little sore."

"So you keep saying but I know you, remember; I know how you like to hide things." He managed a one shoulder shrug. "It's a couple of Tylenol, Sara, so even if there wasn't anything wrong it's not like they're going to harm you." He held the tablets out again. "Please?"

She took them grudgingly, washing them down with a deep swig from the bottle in her hand before cocking her head to one side, a single eyebrow raised questioningly. "Happy now?"

"Not quite." Extracting the water from her hand, Grissom placed it and the tablets down beside his clock. "Now show me." He saw her eyes darken and knew she was about to protest but beat her to it. "I'm serious, Sara; I want to know what caused that sound."

Meeting his gaze, she knew from long experience that nothing short of her capitulation would make him drop the subject so, with a dramatic roll of the eyes, she reached for the hem of the over-sized t-shirt she wore.

"It's nothing," Hiking the shirt up to just beneath her breasts, she exposed her stomach and ribs and the deep, purple-black contusion that ran diagonally across her torso. "Just a bruise like I said; they checked me out at the hospital and, apart from that, I'm perfectly fine."

"Jeez," Reaching out, Grissom placed his finger gently on the very edge of the discoloration, his brow creased in concern. "How far does that go up?"

"To my shoulder, more or less." Sara started slightly, a tiny frisson of longing arcing through her at the unexpected touch; she took a small step backwards and allowed the fabric to fall again before self-consciously smoothing it down. "The doctor said it would take a week or so to fade and, once it does, I'll be as good as new." She broke into a grin. "It's what you end up getting when your seatbelt works." Reaching across, she ran a finger softly across the dressing above his eye. "While this is what you get when it doesn't."

Pulling her hand back again, she adjusted the single pillow on his side of the bed and then patted it invitingly.

"Okay, let's get you settled." She nodded towards the bed. "Back or side, which one is most comfortable?"

"Back, I guess." Grissom sucked in a deep breath as he eased himself down on the mattress. "You know, I have no memory of the accident." He exhaled volubly as he slowly swung his legs up, aided by Sara's guiding hand. "I remember driving along the road and stopping at the red light; I remember losing my temper and I remember what I said to you but-" He shrugged, helplessly. "My next memory is waking up strapped to a backboard in the back of an ambulance and not knowing how the hell I got there."

"You got there courtesy of a drunk driver." Sara made sure both the Tylenol and water were within easy reach before walking around the bed to her side and slipping beneath the covers. "Greg's got the police report and the photographs from the scene; you can see them when we get back home."

"Why has Greg got the reports?" Turning his head carefully to the side, Grissom frowned across at her. "Flagstaff P.D. is more than capable of handling things."

"I'm sure they are," Sara turned on her side to face him propping herself up in one elbow as she spoke. "But there's something screwy with that Nissan and I've asked Greg to find out what that is. Considering the fact that you'd had issues with it since you picked it up and that the driver's seatbelt was obviously faulty, I have a feeling that car should never have been rented out, especially since they had full knowledge that a child was going to be travelling in it."

"You know, that's one of the things that kept going through my head at the hospital, 'thank God, I didn't go with your suggestion to bring Ben with us'; the thought of him being in that car when we were hit…" He sighed heavily. "I don't know what I would have done."

"There wouldn't have been much to do." Sara told him, her voice quietly sober. "The Maxima was totaled, Gil; the pickup all but annihilated the rear half of it; if Ben had been in the car seat…"

"Shit." It was said quietly but with feeling and, turning his head away again, Grissom stared up at the ceiling above.

"But he wasn't," Sara hurried to fill the silence. "That's the main thing, right? You made the decision to leave him in Vegas and he's perfectly safe and well; there's no point in dwelling on what might have happened."

"I know it's just…" The muscles in Grissom's left forearm flexed rhythmically as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "For a minute back there in the driveway, I actually did consider going and picking him up." He turned to look at her again. "And if I had -"

"Don't!" Sara held up a single restraining finger. "Just like you're not to blame for the accident, you're not to blame for Ben _almost_ being in that car. The decision you made was to leave him where he was and, as it turns out, that was, without a doubt, the best one you could have made." Slipping her hand over his, she forced her fingers into his tightly-held fist, forcing him to relax his hand. "You can't fixate on maybes, Gil, particularly when there's a child involved; you'll drive yourself insane if you do that."

He said nothing, simply continued to stare at the ceiling and Sara ran her thumb back and forth across the back of his hand as she watched. She felt the tension drain slowly away, saw him squeeze his eyes tightly closed for just a second before blinking them open again and then, finally, felt him gently return the soft pressure she had maintained on his hand.

"Tell me about him." Speaking softly, she urged him to talk. "Tell me about Ben."

In the soft spill of light from the hallway, she saw the small smile that turned up the corners of his mouth at her words.

"He's a funny little thing." Grissom cleared his throat before continuing. "He has the greatest laugh," He huffed out a quick chuckle of his own "And he laughs a lot. He's so trusting too." Turning towards her, he raised one shoulder in a small shrug. "You forget, after working in law enforcement, after seeing all the hatred and anger that there is out there, that complete innocence like that can exist in the world."

The room fell silent but only for a moment before he spoke again.

"He had a difficult start, I told you that, but you wouldn't believe it to look at him now." A single tear ran down his face but Sara ignored it knowing it was just the start of a release that needed to happen. "He crawls around this place like a little steam train getting into everything that he can." Grissom's voice hitched a little and she automatically tightened her grip on his hand. "And he's desperate to walk by himself, you know; he can get around now as long as he has someone's hand or some furniture to help him but you can see by the determination on his face that he's just dying to take those first few steps on his own." He blinked rapidly but didn't look away. "That's what Mom was most looking forward to, seeing the grandson she never thought she'd have, walk by himself for the very first time."

He sucked in a deep breath then exhaled in a long quivering sigh.

"God, Sara." Pulling his hand free, Grissom returned to staring at the ceiling as his voice broke afresh. "First I lost Warrick, then you and now her; what the hell would I have done if I'd lost Ben too?"

"You haven't and you won't." Quickly closing the distance between them, Sara tucked herself as closely to his side as she thought his ribs would allow and carefully laid her head against his shoulder. "You haven't lost Ben so don't torture yourself and you haven't lost me either." She felt the hitch in his chest this time and knew without having to look that the tears he'd been holding back for days were beginning to fall. "We'll get through this; all of us will, okay?" Slipping her hand back into his, she squeezed. "One way or another, everything will be fine."


	12. Chapter 12

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 12 ~**

* * *

 **A/N:** My apologies for the delay in getting this chapter posted; we seem to have had nothing but family emergencies and business problems lately and Oakwood Close ended up being one of the many things that got pushed further and further down my to-do list. There's only three more chapters to go after this one though and I plan to do everything I can to make sure we get through them without any more hold-ups. :)

* * *

"Thanks for that, Cath; I owe you one." With his cell phone clamped to his ear, Grissom eased himself slowly down onto the nearest of the dining chairs and, as Sara looked up, rolled his eyes melodramatically as he listened to the strident voice on the other end of the line. "All right then, I owe you a couple." He reached for the coffee pot only to have Sara beat him to it and watched appreciatively as she topped up his cup. "Yeah, we both slept in a little longer than expected so we're getting a late start; we should be back sometime around three." With a smile of thanks, he pulled the now full cup towards him. "Okay, we'll see you then. Bye"

"All sorted?" Hair still damp from her shower, Sara raised her own mug up to her lips and took a quick sip of the hot liquid as she watched him.

"Yeah, I told her where Mom kept the spare key so she's going to stop by the house and pick out an outfit then drop it in at the funeral home for me." One shoulder rose in a slight shrug. "Then she's going to take Ben out on a shopping trip to find something for him to wear tomorrow. I'd never really considered that he'd need something special for it but I guess it makes sense; a t-shirt and a pair of jeans probably wouldn't be the best look for his grandmother's funeral, would it?" Despite the subject, his mouth quirked up in a small smile. "You know, I think this will be the first time Catherine's actually taken him somewhere since a sales clerk in Walmart made the mistake of calling her a doting grandma."

"And the clerk lived to tell the tale?" Sara's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Only just," Grissom grinned, vividly remembering Catherine's disgusted indignation at the remark. "And I'll bet you anything that's a mistake he'll never make again."

"So is that why you owe her a couple of favours?" Sara asked. "Because she's risking public humiliation again?"

"Not quite, no." Lifting his cup, Grissom took a moment to breathe in the heady aroma of freshly brewed coffee before taking a mouthful. "Apparently Ben didn't behave too well last night; it was his first full night away from me so I guess it's understandable but I don't think Cath really appreciated the three hours of sleep he allowed her or the food-splattered kitchen she found herself with at breakfast when she turned her back on him to answer the phone." He smiled. "She's talking a full paint job but, knowing Cath, I think it's fair to assume that she's exaggerating just a little." He paused for a moment. "You know, since we're talking about Grissoms disturbing other people's sleep," Putting his cup back down, he sighed. "I want to apologize for last night. I didn't mean to… I shouldn't have…" He dropped his gaze, staring down at the tabletop, as he sought the right words. "I never should have put you in that position, Sara and I'm really sorry that I did; I should have had more control."

"Don't be silly." Pushing her half-full cup to one side, Sara frowned across at him. "You've just lost your mother, you found yourself caught up in, what could have been, a much more serious accident that it turned out to be and then I compounded it all by pointing out what would have happened if your son had been in the car with us." She reached across the table and laid a comforting hand on top of his. "Honestly? I'd have been shocked if you hadn't broken down." She squeezed his fingers. "Seriously, Gil, you have nothing at all to apologise for; I'm just glad that I could be there when you needed someone." Dipping her head slightly to try and catch his eye, she grinned. "Besides, I probably had the best night's sleep than I've had for a long time after all of that so I'm not about to complain."

Popping his head back up, Grissom said nothing but the single deep breath in and slow, even exhalation that followed coupled with a look of gratitude let Sara know that, although still embarrassed by his behaviour, he appreciated the easy dismissal of the previous night's events.

Pulling her hand back, she decided a change of subject was the best way forward. "I like your house."

"So do I." Turning slightly on his chair, Grissom looked around his neat and tidy home. "It's a little on the small side but it's really all Ben and I have needed up till now. He shrugged. "I'm going to be sorry to leave it."

"You've decided then," Sara frowned. "You're definitely not taking the contract extension?"

"Yeah, as much as I've enjoyed all the field work here I'm really not sure my knees can take another year of hiking through the Arizona wilderness and I really think it would be better to give Ben a stable base. I'd like to get him set up somewhere where he can grow up knowing that place is his home; I don't want to have to uproot him every twelve months or so when my latest contract finishes."

"I…" Taken aback by the news, Sara ran her finger absently around the lip of her mug as she stared across the table at him. "I just thought, I guess, that if you left here, you'd stick with your plan to move back to Vegas. I mean, I assume Betty's house is yours now and…" She shrugged. "It seems as good a place as any to raise a child; there's good schools in that area and he'd have all of us around him, of course, a family of sorts."

"Well, unless she changed her will sometime during the past month then, yes, the house is mine," Grissom told her. "And, that's where Ben and I _were_ going to be living but now that Mom's gone… I don't know." He met her gaze with a steady one of his own. "I've got job offers from a couple of different places and enough money in the bank that I don't have to make any rushed decisions so there's plenty of time to make up my mind."

"Any offers from Vegas?" Curiosity piqued, Sara couldn't help but ask. "I, uh… I remember Ecklie mentioning once that you had an open invitation to return to the lab if you ever decided that that was what you wanted."

"Yeah, but it's not." Raising his cup, Grissom shook his head. "That kind of work doesn't interest me anymore; been there, done that and I really don't feel the need to revisit it." He grinned. "Besides, I know what the hours are like, remember and strange as it sounds, I would actually like to see my son grow up, not just catch the odd glimpse of him as I rush from one bloody crime scene to the next."

"It's not always like that." She reminded him.

"No, it's not," He conceded. "But it is like that often enough for me to know that it's not the kind of lifestyle I want Ben being raised in." Lifting his hands, he rubbed idly at both temples a sight that instantly worried Sara.

"Headache getting worse?"

"It's annoying but no worse than it was last night," He told her truthfully, dropping his hands self-consciously under her gaze. "But to answer your question, there's two Vegas options on the table; one is a teaching position at UNLV and the other is with the Water Authority," He shrugged nonchalantly. "A similar kind of project to the one I've been involved in here in Flagstaff but this one would be a permanent position not just a twelve month contract."

"Well that's the kind of thing you're after, isn't it?"

"Perhaps but, like I said, there are other offers to consider and time enough to make up my mind so, I guess we'll see." Turning slightly on the chair, he looked up at the clock on the kitchen wall. "You know, we should probably start making a move." Pushing back from the table, he held his left arm tightly against his ribs as he slowly got to his feet. "I'll go and grab a shower and then start getting everything together that I want to take back with us." He gestured vaguely towards the coffee table in the middle of the living room. "I think I threw my keys down there last night when we arrived; the car's in the garage if you want to pull it around to the front of the house."

"Gil?" Taking a deep, bracing breath, Sara stood to face him. "Hang on a minute, okay; there's something that we need to discuss." She wasn't sure why _now_ seemed to be the right moment or even exactly what it was she was going to say but something compelled her to continue. "You're probably not going to want to hear this, in fact, considering your reaction yesterday, I think that's almost a given but it's something that's hanging over the two of us and I think it's better that we get rid of it now.

Standing stock-still, he didn't need to ask. "Wynard."

"Yeah," Sara nodded. "Him _and_ Basderic; I owe you an explanation for all of that."

"No you don't" Grissom stared at her as he took a deep breath in. "It's none of my business and getting angry the way I did yesterday was stupid and immature." He shook his head as if to dismiss the entire subject. "I never should have let it happen so just forget about it, okay?"

"No, I can't." Sara shook her head. "It's clearly something that's..."

"It's clearly nothing!" The vehemence in his tone belied the words. "I don't need to hear this, Sara, I don't _want_ to hear this."

"I think you do." Keeping her own voice calm and controlled, she took a step around the corner of the table towards him. "As much as you may not like the thought of discussing it, I think it's something that we both need."

"No." Grissom took a single step backwards away from her. "We don't." His eyes flashed, filled with a long-suppressed anger and pain. "I told you all about Melissa because you all but insisted that I do that." He let out a quick, mirthless laugh. "And, considering Ben's existence, it wasn't really something I could hide but that doesn't mean you have to reciprocate." He turned away quickly and started towards the back of the house. "Trust me; the last thing I'm ever going to want to discuss is you and other men."

"Nothing happened."

Her quietly spoken declaration brought him to a halt but he didn't turn back.

"I saw the photos, Sara." Shoulder muscles rigid, Grissom took a deep breath in before continuing. "It didn't look like nothing to me."

"The ones taken outside that bar?" The knowledge that he'd seen the photographs shocked her to the core but Sara pushed all feelings aside as she tried to explain. "Then you've pretty much seen the extent of it." Her legs felt weak and she sat once again. "Absolutely nothing more than that happened at the hotel on the night that Taylor Wynard died; I went up to his room, we had a drink and talked and then I went to my room… alone." She sighed. "And shortly after that, Basderic murdered him and tried his level best to make it look like it was me."

"So I heard." Still unmoving, Grissom's comment was delivered expressionlessly and Sara bristled at the tone.

"Don't get me wrong, there was a part of me that wanted something to happen with him that night; after all, it was my birthday and I had just been stood up by someone I stupidly thought I could rely on even if he had just pulled the plug on our marriage." She saw him flinch but carried on regardless. "A big part of me wanted to hurt you, to punish you for throwing everything away like you did but," She shrugged. "When push came to shove, I couldn't let myself go through with it. I think I realised when I was sitting there talking to him that, in the end, the only person I'd be hurting was me."

"You really think I didn't hurt? That it didn't kill me to make that decision?" Keeping his back to her, Grissom shook his head. "I was giving up the only person that I'd ever truly loved; how the hell could you believe that would be painless?" He fell silent, his only movement a rhythmic clenching of his fist then, after clearing his throat, he turned slightly to look at her.

"Like I said, I'm going to grab a shower; I think the sooner we get on the road the better."

 **A/N2:** Thank you Sylvie.


	13. Chapter 13

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 13 ~**

"David Hodges!"

The first two hours of the drive back to Vegas had been conducted in an almost painfully strained silence so Sara's sudden exclamation sounded overly loud even to her ears.

"That's who it had to have been," she asserted glancing sideways at her unmoving passenger. "No one else makes sense."

"What are you talking about?" Staring out of the side window, Grissom didn't even bother to turn towards her.

"I've been trying to work out who it was that told you about that whole Basderic debacle and he's the only one it could have been." A triumphant smile lit up Sara's face as she drove. "Jim never would have told you, not when it was happening anyway, and neither would Catherine or the guys but you've obviously known about it all this time and Hodges is the only one I can think of that would believe it was his God-given right to inform you." Her smile hardened as her conviction grew. "I'm going to kill him," She shook her head. "If it's the last thing I do, I'll swing for the bastard!"

"First of all, almost all executions in Nevada since 1976 have been carried out using lethal injection so there'd be no swinging involved." Grissom's tone was flat and expressionless. "And, second, there's only been one woman executed by the state and that was in 1890 so, in all likelihood, you'd just spend the rest of your life parked on death row and I really don't think David Hodges is worth it, do you?"

"Trust you to know that." Sara smiled, pleased to at least have him talking to her again. "So I'm right?"

"Yes, you are." Shifting in his seat, Grissom looked out ahead through the windshield. "I was getting…" He choked out a humourless laugh. "I guess you could call it a weekly digest of everything that was happening to you; I heard about every case that you were working on, about all the times you went out with various members of your team and… about Ronald Basderic and Taylor Wynard." He paused. "And then I got the photos too." He openly looked at her for the first time since they'd left the house in Flagstaff. "And those damned things almost killed me." He shrugged. "I mean, I know all of that happened after we formally separated and I had absolutely no right to…" He shook his head, the emotions of that particular episode still raw and painful. "To feel anything but, if there was one thing that could have made me do something seriously stupid it was that; to have those photographs thrown in my face, to see solid proof that you'd moved on, especially as quickly as you obviously had."

"I didn't move on." Sara said it quietly, her gaze shifting from him to the road ahead and back again. "Not then and," She looked back at the road as a car sped by heading in the opposite direction. "Not even now, if truth be told."

Grissom frowned at the statement but continued on as if he hadn't heard her. "How long do you think it'll last?"

She frowned, confused by the apparent non sequitur. "How long will what last?"

"This innate ability we seem to have just now to hurt each other." He turned from her to stare ahead once again. "To piss each other off at the drop of a hat."

"I don't know; not long I hope," She told him truthfully. "But, you know, there's a part of me that actually thinks it's not such a bad thing; if we can piss each other off surely that means that we still care."

"Yeah." For the first time in hours, Grissom allowed himself a small smile. "Maybe you're right."

"How about we call a truce?" Sara suggested. "I don't mention Melissa and you don't mention Wynard," She held up a finger. "Or Basderic for that matter; at least, not until we're _both_ ready to bring up the subject again. Then, maybe, we can concentrate more on getting along and less on the potential to cause pain."

"I can live with that." Grateful for a solution, however temporary, Grissom nodded his acceptance before leaning carefully to his left in an effort to see the car's fuel gauge. "How much gas do we have?"

"About quarter of a tank," Sara told him, remembering suddenly just how few and far between the gas stations were on that particular section of highway. "I guess we should start thinking about filling up, huh?"

"Yeah, we better; there's a truck stop about five miles ahead, if you pull in we can get some gas and maybe stretch our legs a bit." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; although the car's suspension was first rate, the journey was definitely taking a toll on his injured ribs.

"And maybe some food?" Sara frowned as she watched his cautious movement. "You're overdue for a couple of Tylenol and apart from some coffee and those Oreos I found in your cupboard this morning, neither of us has had anything to eat since yesterday's lunch." She put a restraining finger up as she saw him about to protest. "I mean it, Gil; I know you want to get back to Vegas but if you pass out from pain and hunger the minute we get there, you're going to scare the hell out of me, Catherine _and_ your son and I really don't think that'd be wise, do you?"

"Maybe not," Grissom conceded grudgingly as he watched the large billboard advertising the upcoming truck stop flash by their speeding car. "Okay, you win; gas, food, a drink and some Tylenol and then it's straight on to Vegas because, if there's one thing that's going to make me feel better it's seeing Ben again.

* * *

"Here you go." Placing the cardboard carrier onto the heavy wooden picnic table, Sara eased both ice-cold soda cans free of their holders before sliding one across the table top to Grissom as she peered suspiciously at the two plastic-wrapped sandwiches she'd bought to go along with the drinks. "I got chicken salad for you and cheese and tomato for me but I can't guarantee that's what they'll actually taste like." Lifting the top one, she held it out for him to take. "You know what the food in these places is like."

"As long as it's fresh I'm sure it'll be fine," Grissom told her, amusement tugging up one corner of his mouth as he watched her warily unwrapping her meal. "It's not bad here, is it?"

Having filled the car with fuel, they'd moved it away from the truck stop's main thoroughfare and discovered a small but tidy picnic area off to one side: the half dozen hand-crafted but sturdy timber tables and benches arranged in a rough semi-circle and shaded against the hot Arizona sun by a sizeable stand of narrow-leaf cottonwoods making a perfect setting for their impromptu meal.

"If you have to eat in a gas station then I guess it's nice enough." Sara commented as she took a tiny, wary nibble from one corner of her sandwich; she chewed, swallowed and then, confident that it was at least edible, took a larger bite before nodding across to the silver vehicle parked off to one side. "I still can't believe you've got me driving a Nissan; especially after what happened to the Maxima yesterday."

"Well, I don't think we can actually blame that car for the actions of a drunk driver." Grissom pointed out as he fiddled idly with the wrapping of his own lunch. "And, besides, I know that vehicle inside and out so, barring anymore drunks, I think we'll be fine." He shrugged. "It's a good car, Sara and much more comfortable than that old Prius you're driving; enjoy it while you can."

"I'm just surprised that you actually went and bought a _new_ car," she told him with a chuckle. "I distinctly remember Warrick telling me once you thought new vehicles were bad investments"

"Actually, if I remember correctly, what I said was depreciation doesn't make them a logical investment but the Murano was more of a necessity than an investment.' He shrugged. "I was driving a twelve year old Subaru when Ben made his appearance and there was no way I was transporting him around town in that thing."

"But a Nissan?" Sara smiled. "The Gil Grissom I knew was strictly a Mercedes guy."

"The Gil Grissom you knew didn't have to worry about the effects of little feet and sticky fingers on leather upholstery or driving around with, what sometimes feels like an entire baby store in the trunk _or_ bulk buying disposable diapers." He grinned. "And nor had he just spent a small fortune fitting out a nursery; I needed a good, roomy car that didn't cost the earth and the Murano ended up being a whole lot more practical than a Mercedes." He shrugged. "And Ben's needs and safety are way more important than my vehicular preferences."

Sara watched him silently for a moment, a half-smile playing across her face. "You've changed."

Grissom returned the smile with a light chuckle as he raised his soda to his mouth. "It would be kind of strange if I hadn't."

Putting her half eaten sandwich down, Sara reached for her own can. "Tell me about Ben's sisters."

"Wow." He cocked his head. "Is there a prize for the world's shortest truce?"

"Hey, I didn't mention her," Sara pointed out as she took a quick sip. "I simply asked about her daughters; surely we can discuss them without bringing her up."

"Actually, I'm not entirely sure we can but..." Grissom frowned dubiously. "Their names are April and Macy and they're great kids; April is twelve and smart as a whip and Macy is ten." One shoulder rose in a quick, dismissive shrug. "Macy's a little behind other kids her age but according to her dad and her teachers, she's doing okay." Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a sealed strip of Tylenol capsules and popped two out into his hand. "I wasn't sure if making contact with them was the right thing to do but Jim had already spoken to their father and he was all for it so I decided to make the trip." Raising his soda, he tossed the pills in his mouth and washed them down. "I thought it would be awkward but Glen told me that he made the decision when he was left with the girls to always be honest with them about…" He shot her a quick 'I told you so' look before continuing. "… their mother so by the time we got there, they knew who I was and, more importantly, who Ben was and it probably turned out to be the best thing I could have done."

"How so?" Sara asked as she picked up the remains of her meal.

"The only thing I ever felt any real regret over when it came to Ben was the fact that, in all likelihood, he was going to grow up an only child." Pushing his untouched sandwich towards the middle of the table, Grissom looked across with a self-deprecating grin. "I mean, I'm a prime example of what happens when you grow up minus siblings and, God knows, I didn't want that for him but now he doesn't have to; they might not live in the same state but both Glen and I want all three kids to know each other and spend as much time together as possible." He placed his half-empty soda can beside his discarded lunch. "I've got some great photos of the three of them on my camera; I can show them to you when we get back to the house if you'd like."

"I would." Balling up her own plastic wrap, Sara nodded towards the small trash mound he'd just created. "You're not eating?"

"I'm not hungry," he told her simply. "I'm sorry; I wasn't all that interested in the prospect of food to start with but I didn't want to put you off." He rubbed a finger gently over the dressing above his eye. "It's the concussion, I guess, I'm just not sure that chicken salad is going to go down too well especially when you add it to the effect of being in a moving car."

"Okay, I can understand that." Gathering her own collection of trash, Sara piled it along with his back into the cardboard carrier and pushed to her feet. "Come on then, let's get you home."

* * *

"Hey, Trouble." Gingerly rounding the front of the Murano, Grissom held his arms out for his son and wasn't overly surprised when Catherine all but bundled the crying boy into them. Adjusting his hold, he cradled Ben protectively against his chest and rubbed soft circles on his back as the baby buried his tear-streaked face against his shoulder and one small fist grasped a handful of his shirt and held on tight. "What's up, buddy? Did you miss me?"

"Well that's a stupid question." Reaching out, Catherine ran her hand gently over Ben's hair. "He's overtired and grumpy and has been ever since I brought him back here; he refused his lunch, he didn't want his bottle and I've just spent the past twenty minutes walking round the living room trying to rock him to sleep but he's been fighting me all the way."

"Ah, that's a specialty," Grissom commented with a smile as he cupped the back of Ben's head and pressed a comforting kiss to his son's soft wavy hair. "He can be a stubborn little devil when he wants to be."

"Gil?" Stepping smartly out of the way of the opening tailgate, Sara watched avidly as he comforted his son. "Remember your ribs, okay?"

"He won't hurt me; will you, bud?" He smiled brightly as Ben's head came up, the racking sobs fading off into a case of the hiccups. "There we go, you're feeling better already."

"My God, your face." Really looking at him for the first time, Catherine winced in sympathy at the sight of the bruising that marred her friend's eye and cheekbone. "I knew you'd had a close call but that looks sore."

She put her hand out towards Grissom's face only to have him jerk away from her touch.

"It is, Cath so how about we don't make it worse, huh" He sighed heavily as he watched Ben's eyes widen at the sight of the dressing on his brow and moved quickly to grab the much smaller hand that was now trying to emulate Catherine's move. "And that goes for you too, okay? No poking, prodding or grabbing at Daddy's face; not unless you want to spend the rest of the day corralled on the opposite side of the room."

"Take him inside, Gil; he'll probably have something to eat now that you're here and, with some luck, he'll go down for a nap." Catherine suggested as she glanced back at the packed Murano. "I'll give Sara a hand unpacking the car and then I'll have to take off for a couple of hours but I'll be back around five to help you out with him." She smiled at the sight of the little boy determinedly trying to reach his father's face. "It looks like you're going to need it."

"I can help him out, Catherine." Stepping forward, Sara set her shoulders as though ready for a fight. "I'll be sticking around for a while anyway; I don't have any other plans."

"Okay." Catherine's tone carried equal parts surprise and scepticism as she turned from the woman before her to Grissom and Ben over by the front door. "I spoke to Jim about an hour ago, he's playing catch-up with Vartann and a couple of other detectives over dinner but he said to tell you he'd drop by sometime after eight."

"Sounds good." Still fending off his son's questing fingers, Grissom nodded absently in her direction before jerking his thumb towards the house "Okay, I'm going to take him in but thanks for taking care of him, Cath, I know he can be a handful."

"Oh, he's nothing." Waving her fingers in Ben's direction, Catherine grinned as he clumsily wriggled his back. "You obviously don't remember Lindsay at that age; now _she_ was a handful!"

She stood for a moment, watching as they both disappeared inside the house then turned towards Sara.

"Sticking around for a while, huh?" Reaching into the Murano's trunk, Catherine pulled out Ben's folded walker. "When I was talking to Jim he let me in on your little secret."

Carefully lifting the garment bag that contained Grissom's suit free of the car, Sara sighed. "He always did have a big mouth."

Catherine ignored the comment as she nodded towards the house's open front door. "I take it you haven't told him yet."

"Nope." Garment bag still in one hand, Sara grabbed a stuffed overnight bag with the other. "Between the accident and dealing with his injuries, it never really felt like the right time."

"Right time or not, it should have been done." Pausing in her task, Catherine propped one hand on her hip as she stared at the younger woman. "It's hardly fair on him, is it? As far as he's concerned, the two of you are divorced." There was no mistaking either the anger or self-righteousness in her tone. "You've lied all this time, Sara; you should have put it right."

"And when exactly should I have done that, Catherine?" Bristling at the unexpected attack, Sara bit back. "When he was being pulled unconscious from the wreck of that damned car? While they were wheeling him down for x-rays and a CT scan to find out just how serious his head injury was? Or maybe when he broke down in the middle of the night when the fact that he'd just lost his mother and very easily could have lost his son hit him like a ton of bricks?" She spun back towards the car and yanked out another bag. "He _will_ be told, Catherine but when I decide the time is right, not you and not Jim, okay?" Turning, she slammed the bag down beside the car. "My husband, my marriage, my business!"

"You're forgetting something, aren't you?" Catherine stared silently at her for a full minute, a cool but knowing smile playing around her lips before she reached back into the Murano and pulled out a large bag of Pampers. " _Your_ step-son." Her grin grew wider as she pushed the diapers firmly into Sara's arms. "Enjoy!"

* * *

 **A/N:** It's usually at this point that I'd thank SylvieT for her beta of this chapter but, considering she's been holding it hostage, I don't think I'll bother. ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 14 ~**

* * *

 **A/N1:** Okay people, I vote we get this thing finished. :)

* * *

"He looks so much like you." Having scrolled through to the last of the photographs on Grissom's laptop, Sara switched her attention fully to the baby seated opposite. Strapped securely in his high chair- and clearly delighted that it was his father overseeing his mealtime and not Catherine - Ben held the final remnant of his toasted whole wheat fingers tightly in one hand while he smeared the last of his mashed banana round and round the tray table before him with the other.

"Scary, isn't it?" Seated opposite her, Grissom looked across with a small smile. "Jim insisted on organizing a DNA test the day after he was born but I knew Ben was mine from the moment that I saw him." As his son pushed the piece of bread into his mouth, he pulled a couple of baby wipes free from their container and quickly wiped up the worst of the mess that had just been generated. "I've seen enough of my baby photos to know that I was looking at a Grissom." His smile faded slightly. "Mom knew it too; she never doubted it for a second."

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Sara asked as she watched him deftly clean Ben's sticky face and hands. He'd become noticeably quieter since their arrival back at the house and Sara guessed the reality of what was to come was beginning to take hold.

"For the funeral, I mean."

"Is anyone ever ready to bury their parent?" It was a rhetorical question so Grissom didn't wait for an answer. "I guess you could say that I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Gathering both the small plastic bowl that had held Ben's meal and the used wipes together, he slowly pushed to his feet and carried them the short distance to the kitchen sink. "I remember so much about the day my father died but only snatches about the day of his funeral." One shoulder rose in an almost nonchalant shrug. "I guess I'm hoping tomorrow will turn out the same way."

"You'll be fine." Closing the laptop's lid, Sara pushed it to one side as she smiled warmly at the little boy beside her. "We'll make sure you are, won't we, Ben?"

Delighted at the attention, Ben slapped both hands down on his tray and graced Sara with a dribble-laced smile. He'd watched her, cautiously, from the safety of his father's arms while she'd carried the contents of the Murano into the living room and then curiously as she'd followed Grissom's patient instructions to assemble both the playpen and baby walker and had now, clearly, decided she passed muster.

For her part, Sara had assumed she'd feel uncomfortable and awkward in the child's presence, a belief that had been, in part, behind her deliberate distance from both father and son at the Robbins' house during the team's reunion breakfast but, instead, found herself warming to the baby's innate innocence and charm.

"You're a happy little soul, aren't you?" She chuckled to herself as the words caused Ben's smile to widen into a grin and four tiny front teeth glistened in his open mouth. She glanced up to see Grissom steadily watching both of them. "He's confident, contented and clearly at ease with everything about him; we don't get to see that much in our line of work." She dipped her head slightly as she corrected herself. "My line of work. You're doing a good job with him."

"Well, I'm not going to say it's been easy." Rounding the counter, Grissom retook his seat. "But, once I got over the terror I felt at the start," he shrugged lightly. "And, believe me, it _was_ terrifying; we just, kind of, learnt as we went along." Holding out the blue sippy cup he'd filled earlier, he watched as Ben grasped both handles and, with a proud as punch grin at the two adults before him, began to drink. "I've been lucky with him, really. I hear all these stories about fussy eaters and bad sleepers and that's something I've never really had a problem with; he'll eat almost anything I give him, he's slept through the night since he was about four months old and he's quite sociable too," his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Which is odd considering I'm his father."

Satisfied with his drink, Ben held his cup out towards Grissom but, as his father's hand came up to take it, he suddenly swung it away again and offered it to Sara instead.

"Well, thank you." She took it with a smile, surprised by the sudden rush of pleasure that surged through her at the baby's gift.

Getting to his feet again, Grissom stripped Ben of his soiled bib then slipped his hands beneath his son's armpits and began to lift him free of the high chair, an act that was brought to a sudden halt as a bolt of pain arced across his chest from his broken ribs. He froze, the color draining quickly from his face and, realizing what the problem was, Sara was quickly on her feet.

"I've got him." She held Ben safely in his seat as Grissom pulled his hands back and quickly clamped his arm tightly against his left side. "I'll manage Ben." Sliding one hand beneath Grissom's elbow she encouraged him backwards towards his chair. "You take a seat and get your breath back; I'm going to hazard a guess that you've lifted about as much as you can manage for today."

"I'll be fine." Easing himself down onto the dining chair, Grissom made a concerted effort to control his labored breathing. "I didn't have a problem taking him from Catherine or putting him into the chair in the first place but I guess lifting him out of it is out of the question." Pain easing slightly, he lightly rubbed his hand against his side with a wry grin. "That ought to make the next few days interesting."

"Well, it's a good thing you've got people around you that don't mind helping out, isn't it?" Turning her attention fully towards the high chair, Sara held out her hands as she'd seen Grissom do. "Hey, little man, do you mind if I pick you up instead of your dad?"

Familiar blue eyes blinked up at her and a brief frown furrowed Ben's brow before, with a cautious glance at his father, the baby raised two small, chubby arms and allowed Sara to slide her hands beneath them.

"There we go." She effortlessly hoisted him from the high chair and automatically swung him around to rest on her hip, bouncing him there for a moment, smiling brightly at the little boy before, once more, addressing his father. "I thought I'd stay here tonight and maybe longer if that's what's needed; you'll have to have help around the house," she cocked her head sideways towards Ben, "and with this one for a couple of days at least."

"I thought Jim had caught that duty." Rising cautiously from his chair, Grissom grimaced as he took a carefully measured breath. "At least that was the impression I got when Catherine mentioned him earlier."

"Well, now he doesn't have to bother." She felt a slight tug and, looking down, smiled at the sight of Ben's fingers wrapped tightly around the black onyx pendant she wore. "I'm sure he's got better things to do than to baby-sit the two of you anyway."

"You're probably right." Rounding the kitchen counter, Grissom pulled a glass down from one of the overhead cupboards and headed towards the sink. "Did he tell you that he has a girlfriend?"

"Who? Jim?" Bemused by the prospect, Sara grinned. "No, he never said a word."

Filling the glass, Grissom nodded. "He's been seeing her for a while now." He popped two Tylenol out into his palm and tossed them into his mouth before quickly washing them down. "She was one of the ER nurses at Desert Palm that treated Ellie after her suicide attempt; she spent some time that day speaking with Jim and then they ran into each other at a gas station a couple of months later." Draining the last of the water, he placed the glass on the sink with the rest of the dirty dishes. "He's playing it all pretty close to his chest which leads me to think that things could be serious. Helen's not his usual type but she's been good for him; he was a little lost after he quit the department and she's helped him settle down again."

"That's good, I'm glad." Swaying slowly side to side, Sara nodded her approval as Ben rubbed tiredly at one eye with a balled up fist. "After everything he went through with Ellie and her mother he deserves some happiness."

"Yeah, he does." Grissom cocked his head towards the table. "Why don't you sit down again while I make us a cup of tea?" He smiled as Ben, the pendant still firmly held in his hand, leant in to lay his head on Sara's shoulder. "If you sit him on your lap and lightly rub his back he ought to nod off pretty quickly; just don't let him pull too hard on that chain, he's stronger than you think."

"I'm not worried. Leaning forward slightly, Sara made it even easier for Ben to twine the metal round his questing fingers. "It's a pretty sturdy chain."

"I know." Grissom chuckled at both the sight of his son's obvious fascination and Sara's answer. "I'm the one that bought it for you, remember? It's the chain that you used to slip your wedding ring on when you wanted to make sure it was safe." He chuckled. "You were always so worried that something was going to happen to it."

"Actually, I was _paranoid_ that something was going to happen to it." Easing herself back down onto the chair she'd recently vacated, Sara settled Ben on her lap and smiled as he snuggled in against her chest. She curved one arm securely around him, the fingers of her other hand tracing a gentle path up and down his back as she continued to speak. "If I couldn't wear it on my finger then I wanted to know exactly where it was at all times and around my neck was the perfect solution." She looked across with an almost embarrassed smile. "And just in case you wondered, I still keep it safe; it's in its box in my bedside table." A single shoulder rose in what she hoped was a casual shrug. "So, what did you do with yours?"

"My wedding ring?" Busy placing teabags into mugs, Grissom started at the unexpected question. "I, uh, I hate to say it but the last time I saw it was as it arced its way out into the middle of Newnan's Lake back in Gainesville. Well, maybe not exactly into the middle," he conceded sheepishly, turning to flick the switch on the nearby kettle. "It's a pretty big lake and my throwing arm was kind of rusty."

"You threw it away?" Sara exclaimed, unable to hide her dismay at the admission. "That was an expensive ring, Gil; were you really _that_ angry at me?"

"At you?" Staring at his own reflection in the kettle's stainless steel surface, Grissom sighed and shook his head. "No, at that particular moment in time, I was angry at both of us." He looked up, turning to face her with a humorless smile. "We threw away our marriage, Sara so I threw away my ring." He offered her a half-hearted shrug. "Juvenile, I know, but it seemed fitting at the time."

"Did it make you feel better?"

"No, nothing ever made me feel better." He stared for a moment at the sight of his now dozing son held securely in Sara's arms. "Except for him, of course." He nodded slowly as a proud, almost defiant smile broke out on his face. "He's helped heal a lot of things."

"I imagine he did." Tightening her hold on the tiny boy, Sara nodded slowly as she stroked a gentle hand over Ben's wavy curls. Emotions churning just beneath the surface, she had to clear her throat before she asked her next question. "Do you ever wonder if we made a mistake?"

"Actually I think we made a lot of them." Studiously turning his attention back to the task at hand, Grissom moved their mugs closer to the almost boiling kettle. "But the big one was believing that we could overcome anything because, as we found out, we couldn't." He sighed heavily. "We thought we could survive in a world where you live on one side of it while I lived on the other; where distances, especially sustained distances, didn't matter; that we as a couple were more important than whatever it was we were, individually, working on at any given moment but we weren't. Neither of us fought for our relationship, Sara; it obviously didn't mean as much to either of us than it should have." He huffed out a curt, angry laugh. "We just stood on our respective sides of the world and watched it die and, while that's something I will regret for the rest of my life, I guess it's just the way it was meant to be."

"I don't think it's dead; at least, it's not for me." She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the question that, she knew, she now had to ask. "If there was a way back for us would you take it?"

Taken aback by the query, Grissom momentarily froze before looking up and staring across the room at Sara almost as if he'd never seen her before.

"I, uh," He blinked twice, completely nonplussed by her words. "Sara, I …"

The sound of the doorbell and the accompanying blinking strobe light emitted by one of the flash receiver positioned throughout Betty's home caught both their attention and breaking his stare, Grissom looked at his watch. "That's probably one of the neighbors; I had a steady stream of them turning up just before we left for Flagstaff either offering their condolences or asking about the funeral arrangements." With a weary sigh, he ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "Damn it, I could have done without this just now."

Holding the now sleeping Ben tightly against her chest, Sara pushed to her feet and moved around the table to where he still stood by the counter. "Here, if you can take him, I'll go see who it is." Quickly but carefully, she freed her necklace from the baby's grasp. "I'd take him with me but I'd hate to disturb him now that he's asleep."

"I'll get him settled in his room." With no lifting involved, a grateful Grissom managed to take Ben's weight with the minimum of discomfort. "I'll only be five minutes or so." He cocked his head towards the front of house and the unexpected visitor. "With some luck they'll be gone by then."

Standing in the kitchen doorway, Sara followed his progress down the hallway to the bedroom at the end and waited until he was through the door and out of sight before she made her way to the front of the house. She pulled the front door open and was not in the least surprised by whom she found waiting patiently on the other side of it.

"I had a feeling it would be you." She glanced down at her watch before looking up again with an amused smile. "And only four and a half hours earlier than expected."

"Well," Stepping past her, Jim Brass headed straight for the living room. "Lou got called in early on a case he's been working and we decided to reschedule so I thought I'd come round here and catch some extra time with my favorite little guy." Making himself at home on the sofa, Jim looked up at her with a grin. "And his dad, of course." He looked around the room. "So where are they?"

"Gil's putting Ben down in his crib." Taking up a seat opposite, Sara gestured vaguely towards the back of the house. "We've only just got him off to sleep." She leant back, intent on getting to the real reason for Jim's much earlier than anticipated arrival. "So, was Vartann really called in or did Catherine phone you?"

"Both actually." Jim admitted openly. "Cath gave me a call about an hour ago to let me know that the two of you were back, safe and relatively sound, but also because she was a little bit concerned at the speed you seem to be moving."

"Catherine needs to mind her own business." Sara almost spat the words out, angry at the older woman's interference.

"You know, usually I'd agree with you but this time," Jim cocked his head as he studied the woman before him. "I don't know, Sara; it's really not all that long ago that you were cursing Gil from one end of Vegas to the other and you couldn't bring yourself to say Ben's name aloud and now…" He held up both hands as though encompassing the house and everyone in it. "Now, it seems that you're all set to move in here and take on the loving wife and mother role without a care in the world."

"Jim, as much as I appreciate the concern you and Catherine seem to have for -"

"Two days, Sara." He was quick to interrupt her. "It's only been two days since I almost had to force you to get in that car with him and drive to Arizona, since I had to pretty much convince you that you couldn't go on blaming a ten month old baby for everything that was wrong with your relationship with his father." He allowed himself a quick, quiet chuckle. "Now, the knowledge that you want Grissom back isn't really all that big a surprise and, in the normal scheme of things, if the two of you decided to give it another shot, I'd back you one hundred percent but…" Humor dissipating, Jim sobered once again. "It's not just the two of you, is it? You try reconciliation, it fails and you split again," he shrugged. "Sad but not the end of the world; unless, of course, you happen to be a little boy that suddenly finds himself in the middle of a disintegrating family." Leaning in closer, he lowered his tone slightly. "And I love that little boy, Sara so I really wouldn't like to see that happening to him."

"That kind of thing occurs everyday, Jim and the vast majority of children survive it just fine, you know that, but, I promise you, I would do everything in my power to make sure that never happened to Ben." Her annoyance at his intrusion faded and she smiled. "You know, you told me that loving a child is easy if you love its father and, now that I've spent some time with him, I can see how that would happen but I know it'll take time so, please, don't think that I'm rushing things because I'm not; Ben and I need to get to know one another properly and Gil and I still have things that need to be talked about and worked through before we can really begin to rebuild our relationship." One shoulder rose in a self-conscious shrug. "That's provided he wants to, of course."

"Well, I can't speak for the man but I think he'd be an idiot to not, at least, give it a shot." With his concerns, more or less, laid to rest, Jim began to relax again. "Though you might want to start by telling him the two of you were never actually divorced in the first place."

"Funny thing is I was just about to do that when you rang the doorbell." Sara smiled and then sighed. "I know I said I'd wait until after the funeral and I guess that would probably still be best but, now that I've made up my mind about things, there's a big part of me that thinks the sooner I tell him we're still married the better."

"Consider him told." Standing squarely in the living room entrance, Grissom's blue eyes hardened to an icy gray as Sara quickly spun to face him. "Now I think you better go."

 **A/N2:** Thanks, as always, goes to SylvieT


	15. Chapter 15

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 15 ~**

Pushing the door of the Prius closed, Sara slung her purse over her shoulder, adjusted her sunglasses and hit the lock key on the car's fob before threading her way between two other parked vehicles and stepping onto the concrete sidewalk that would lead her to the modern-looking building up ahead.

The Gregson Funeral Service's chapel, situated two blocks west of Boulder Highway, was one she'd never had cause to visit before and the sandstone coloured façade and large smoked glass windows kept her attention as she followed the path around the side to the building's impressive contemporary portico and the decent sized crowd that was beginning to assemble.

Some she recognised as Betty's neighbours, others as members of either the board, faculty or student body of the Gilbert Academy but the rest were strangers, except of course, for the small group clustered beside one of the nearby xeriscaped garden beds. With an appreciative smile appearing on her lips, she quickly made her way across to them.

"Hey guys." Stepping almost unthinkingly into Nick's welcoming embrace, her grin widened as she looked around at her friends and colleagues. "Thanks for coming; I know Betty would appreciate it."

"As if we'd stay away." Stepping back out of the hug, Nick kept his hands on her shoulders as he studied her closely. "I know Grissom took the brunt of that collision, Sara but are you sure you're okay? You're looking a little pale."

"I'm fine, really." She dabbed lightly at the small cut on her top lip. "This is nothing and the rest is just a little bruising."

"Did you speak to him last night?" Rarely one for small talk, Catherine got to straight to the point. "Or this morning?

"No, but not for want of trying," Sara told her honestly. "All my calls have gone to voicemail and if he's reading the text messages I've sent he's ignoring them." She shrugged. "I tried getting hold of Brass this morning but I didn't have any luck there either."

"I spoke to Jim before I left the house and he mentioned he'd had a missed call from you; he said he was going to call you back but then decided it would be better to speak to you here instead." Catherine glanced briefly at her watch. "They ought to be arriving any minute now."

"What happened?" Looking from one woman to the other and then across at Greg, Nick frowned in confusion before turning his attention back to Sara. "From what I heard, you and Griss were getting on really well."

"We were but then…" Sara shrugged and sighed. "Well, he overheard something that I now wish I'd told him a whole lot earlier."

"What kind of something?" Stepping forward, Al Robbins joined the conversation.

"The kind where you tell the guy he's still actually married to you." Receiving what amounted to a death stare from Sara, Catherine shrugged disingenuously in reply. "What? It's not like it's still a secret."

"I _knew_ there was something funny going on with you." Shaking his head in disbelief, Nick grinned widely at the woman before him. "You never have done things normally, have you?"

"I couldn't do it," Sara told them sincerely. "On the day I got the signed papers back from him, I stood in the kitchen holding them for ten solid minutes and just knew I couldn't bring myself to take the next step." She looked around the group defiantly. "And, before anybody says it, I know I should have gotten in touch with Grissom then and there but…"

"But why you didn't is really none of our business." Stepping forward, Robbins placed his hand lightly on her forearm. "Seriously, Sara, you don't owe us any explanations, this is between you and Gil and nobody else." He ducked his head slightly to ensure he caught her eye. "Just know that, whatever way this goes, you have our support." He nodded towards the others. "And that goes for both of you, okay?"

"Thank you." Taking a deep breath, Sara smiled in gratitude at the entire group.

"You both have something else as well," Greg piped up, a self-satisfied grin spreading quickly across his face. "You've got a lawsuit." He nodded briskly, clearly pleased with the news he had to impart. "Turns out that Maxima the two of you were travelling in was in an accident a little over a week before Grissom rented it and, after going over all the paperwork associated with that, it looks very much like someone has been trying to cut corners."

"Do you know who that was?" Interest piqued, Catherine's eyebrows rose in question.

"Not yet," Greg told her. "Right now, the rental company, the insurance company and the body shop the Nissan was sent to are all trying to blame each other but," he looked back at Sara. "Regardless of which of them ends up being the guilty party, there's a nice little negligence and personal injury case just sitting there waiting for you and Grissom to file."

"Well, given the way he took the news last night, I really doubt the thought of sharing something with me is going to impress him all that much," Sara commented dryly.

"And speak of the devil." Lowering his voice slightly, Al Robbins, cocked his head towards the far corner of the building. "There he is."

Turning, Sara watched as Grissom, dressed impeccably in a charcoal-grey suit, white shirt and burgundy tie, stepped out of the harsh mid-morning sun and into the cooling shade of the portico. He wore dark sunglasses, undoubtedly to hide the worst of his bruising although, even from a distance, she could clearly make out the bright white dressing that stood out starkly above his left eye. He carried Ben balanced in the crook of his right arm whilst Jim Brass brought up the rear, his navy blue suit and tie coordinating surprisingly well with the slightly paler hue of the diaper bag he carried over his shoulder.

She winced in sympathy as Grissom gingerly moved Ben to his left side before shaking the nearest proffered hand then lifted her own in greeting. Brass noted her presence with a smile and a nod before stepping away from the steadily growing group waiting to speak to Grissom and making his way across to where she stood.

"How are you holding up?" With a quick smile at the others, Jim placed his hand gently on Sara's elbow and steered her a little further along the path. "You get any sleep at all?"

"Not a lot." Sara told him honestly. "But I guess having your husband throw you out of his mother's house doesn't really make for a restful night." She shrugged. "How'd it go after I left?"

"Well, I managed to convince him that I'd only known about it for a couple of days so he eventually relented and decided to let me stay but he pretty much kept to himself for the rest of the night." Jim shrugged. "I ordered in dinner, played with Ben for a while and then helped get him settled but, as soon as that was done, Gil disappeared behind his laptop and that was that." Jim sighed. "He's pretty much back to normal this morning but, when I tried bringing up the subject of you and your marriage, all he'd say was that he had everything in hand." He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know exactly what he meant by that, Sara but I overheard him making a phone call before we left to come here and I do know it involves an airline ticket."

"An airline ticket?" Sara stared incredulously at the man before her.

"Uh huh." Jim nodded. "And, from what I gathered, it's for a flight that leaves this afternoon."

"Excuse me, sir?" The unexpected voice startled Jim and he spun quickly to find one of the black-clad Gregson employees standing directly behind him. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but Mr. Grissom is going to need his little boy's diaper bag." She nodded towards his shoulder. "I can take it to him if you like or-"

"I'll take it!" Shaking off the shock of Jim's revelation, Sara almost snatched the bag from his hold. "Mr Grissom is still recovering from an accident so he's probably going to need some help anyway." She scanned the mingling crowd. "Where is he?"

"We have a room set aside for the immediate family so he's taken the baby in there." The woman gestured helpfully in the direction of the portico. "Just go through the main door and it's the door on your right after the chapel entrance."

"Thank you." Sara watched the woman go as she pushed the bag strap onto her own shoulder then took a deep breath before turning back to Jim with a soft chuckle. "I suddenly feel like I'm about to go and explain to my supervisor how I screwed up at a crime scene." She grinned nervously as she began to back away. "Wish me luck."

"You won't need it, you'll be fine; just remember to keep calm, be honest and, most importantly, speak from the heart." Jim smiled encouragingly at her. "You know what it is you want, Sara, and as far as I'm concerned that was the hardest decision of all; now all you have to do is go and get him to admit that he wants the same."

She replayed Jim's words over and over in her head as she weaved her way through the crowd and into the cool of the building's short hallway. The entrance was bright and airy with a refectory table set against one wall holding the leather-bound condolence book, a tasteful arrangement of carnations and a framed photograph of her late mother-in-law. Moving beyond it, Sara glanced in through the large double doors of the chapel itself and paused for a moment as she looked past the rows of polished timber pews to Betty's mahogany casket, its top almost covered by an elaborate spray of white flowers. She turned from the sight and, moving a little further down the hallway, allowed herself a slow, calming breath, knocked twice on the door before her then opened it up and went inside.

"Need a hand?"

Set up with the family of the deceased in mind, the room had been tastefully decorated with a pair of plush fabric sofas and two matching armchairs set around a large coffee table and it was on that that Sara placed the diaper bag.

"One of the staff members came looking for Ben's bag so I thought I'd bring it in for you."

"Actually, I don't need it." Seated in one of the armchairs, Grissom looked tired and sad but there wasn't a single sign, Sara was pleased to see, of the animosity that had been evident the previous night. Straddling his lap with his back to the door, Ben twisted around to look at the newcomer and broke into a grin when he caught sight of Sara. "I just used it as an excuse to get away from all the people out there." Grissom shrugged. "If one more person tells me how sorry they are I'm probably going to deck them."

"Par for the course at a funeral I'm afraid." Waggling her fingers in greeting at the baby, Sara settled herself on the nearest sofa, smoothed her skirt down and looked up into her husband's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What were you going to do, Sara?" With an exasperated sigh, Grissom shook his head. "Sit back and wait for me to marry someone else and then tell the world I was a bigamist?"

"Actually the prospect of that happening never even entered my mind,." Sara told him honestly. "That was pretty stupid, I guess, but I know I have absolutely no interest in getting married again and I suppose I just thought," she shrugged. "Or hoped, you'd feel the same way."

Trying his level best to push himself backwards on his father's lap, Ben let out a whine of frustration that had Grissom rolling his eyes. "Okay, okay, I'll let you go down." Holding his breath in an effort to brace his ribcage, he lifted Ben clear of his lap and then placed him carefully on his feet, waiting until the little boy had his balance before letting go completely and wasn't at all surprised when his son promptly lowered himself to the carpeted floor, rolled onto his knees and took off around the coffee table towards Sara.

"See…" He said as Ben reached his target and proceeded to pull himself upright using the hem of Sara's skirt. "I told you he was more sociable that I am."

"Hey, little man; don't you look smart." Reaching down, Sara lifted a delighted Ben up and settled him onto her own lap then ran her finger underneath the edge of the bright red suspenders Catherine had picked out to set off the blue twill pants and white oxford shirt she'd bought for him. Navy blue suede boots completed the outfit and Ben happily showed them off by drumming his feet against the arm of the sofa as Sara glanced up to see Grissom smiling at his son's antics. "Catherine has good taste."

"Catherine has impractical taste." Grissom commented dryly. "She spent a small fortune on things he'll probably only wear once."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to splash out a little every now and then." Tightening her hold on the baby, Sara nervously cleared her throat before continuing. "Didn't you ever wonder why you were never sent an actual divorce decree?"

"Not really, no." He shook his head. "Since most of our correspondence was being conducted via my mother I just assumed that she'd received it and decided against sending it on to me; I figured I'd come across it somewhere in the house." He allowed himself a quick, mirthless chuckle. "I guess that was what you meant when you mentioned an easy way back for us, huh?"

"And you never answered me." She ran her fingers through Ben's wavy hair, the smile she gave the boy belying the nerves she felt as she waited for his father's reply.

"We separated for a reason, Sara." To anyone else, Grissom's voice might have come across as flat or expressionless but having spent so much to time with him, both privately and professionally, Sara was well versed in picking up on the nuances that others missed and her head came up at the words.

"Yes, we did and you hit the nail on the head yesterday when you said our marriage failed because of distance but it doesn't have to be that way now, does it?" She fixed her eyes firmly on his. "The strongest we have ever been as a couple was when we were together: in Costa Rica, in Paris, even here in Vegas…" She paused for a moment as her mind flashed back to the last few months of 2007. "Well, before Natalie, that is, nothing could touch us and I can't help but think that we could have that again."

"As a couple." Grissom repeated. "Those are the operative words though, aren't they?" Raising one hand he gestured towards the little boy sitting happily in Sara's lap. "But we're not a couple anymore; we're two distinct people one of whom has a child." His eyes widened suddenly as a sudden thought hit him. "Oh God, Sara, if we're still married what does that make me?" He dropped his gaze back to Ben. "What does that make him?"

"It makes you a man who was led to believe that he was divorced from his wife." Sara pointed out simply. "A man who got drunk one day and…' One shoulder rose as she struggled to find an appropriate term. "Slipped up, I guess is the politest way to put it." She held up a restraining finger as Grissom opened his mouth to speak. "No, Gil, I want to say this and I want to say it without interruption. Yes, I was shocked when you turned up here with Ben but the fact is that although we weren't divorced we were legally separated so if anyone wants to take issue with you about anything that happened during that time," she ran her hand gently over Ben's head a move that garnered a delighted smile from the little boy. "Then they're going to have me to answer to."

Sara paused for only a moment, just long enough to take a quick breath and grin back at the still beaming child.

"As for Ben…" Raising her head, she looked straight at his father. "He's a beautiful little boy who was clearly meant to be here." She chuckled lightly at the surprise she saw written on her husband's face. "He helped his dad get through, what I know from experience, was a tough time in his life and he made his grandmother a very happy lady in the last few months of hers." She cocked her head, her eyes locking on Grissom's. "I don't care how he came to be here, Gil, I don't care who, or what, his mother is." She shrugged lightly. "All I care about is that he _is_ here and I, for one, want nothing more than to get to know him better."

"Sara-"

"And I want to get to know his father too." Sara continued on. "The Gil Grissom I knew is still there, I know, but there's a whole new aspect to him thanks to this little guy and I'd like to learn as much as I can about him as well."

"I've been offered a job and I think I'm going to take it." Unable to stay silent any longer, the words spilled quickly out of Grissom's mouth. "Ben and I are booked on a flight to Lexington that leaves this afternoon."

"Lexington." Sara could only stare; thanks to Jim's tip off she'd known he had something planned but _this_ had never entered her mind. "Lexington, Kentucky?"

Grissom nodded.

"The university there has an extensive entomology department and they've been after me to join it for a while now; they're offering me a five year contract, help with relocating and a guaranteed day-care placement for Ben. It's going to be more lab work and less field work than I was really looking for but…" He offered her a soft smile. "Look, being together so much is just confusing for all of us so I think it'll be better for everyone if I-"

His words trailed off, the sight of pain and confusion in Sara's eyes softening both his tone and his resolve.

"Trust me, honey, if it was just the two of us, I'd grab the chance you're offering with both hands but I have to think about Ben; if it all went wrong again and we separated…" He shrugged helplessly. "I don't think I could put him through that."

"And neither could I." Drawing in a shuddering breath, Sara let it out slowly before speaking again. "I know there are no guarantees in life but we know where we went wrong last time so, as long as we made a point of not repeating that mistake, I really don't see that we have much to lose."

A sudden double rap on the door startled them and they both looked up as the same young staff member who'd approached Jim earlier popped her head into the room.

"We're about ready to make a start, Mr Grissom and everyone is heading into the chapel now so..." She looked expectantly from Grissom to Sara and then back again.

"Okay, thank you." Grissom nodded his understanding as his eyes moved back to Sara. "We'll be out in a minute."

The door closed again and the room fell silent until Sara, Ben held tightly in her arms, pushed to her feet.

"I'm not ready to give up on us, Gil." Stepping towards him, she placed a gentle kiss on top of Ben's head and then held him out for his father to take. "Because I happen to think we're worth fighting for."

Watching Grissom settle the baby on his knee, she smiled down at both of them. "And I don't just mean you and me as a couple but all three of us as a family." She shrugged. "People don't get a lot of second chances in life but I believe that we have one now and I'd hate to think that you'd allow fear of failure to take away the opportunity we have for a future together but if that's what you're going to do…"

Slipping her hand into the pocket of her jacket, Sara extracted the envelope she placed there before leaving the house and held it out. "Then I think you ought to have this; we've both signed it so there's nothing to stop you filing it yourself."

And with that, she turned her back on them and walked out of the room.

* * *

 **A/N:** One more to come and then Oakwood is finished; there is a sequel in the works but I'm going to have to wander off for a bit to wind up Shadow Play and then we'll see about making a start on that.

Thanks for all your hard work, SylvieT :)


	16. Chapter 16

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Chapter 16 ~**

* * *

 **A/N:** This was supposed to be the final chapter of Oakwood Close, in fact, I was adamant it _would_ be the final chapter of Oakwood Close but when I sent it off to SylvieT for some of her beta magic I sent something else as well and asked if she thought I should tack it on the end and the upshot is that OC is now going to have a short epilogue of sorts. There's not a lot to do on it, just a little bit of padding really, so I'll try my utmost to get that done this week and see about posting it sometime over the weekend.

* * *

Betty Grissom's funeral service had been beautiful, moving and, at the same time, seemingly interminable in Sara's mind.

She'd entered the chapel to a hushed quiet and a multitude of curious stares but had ignored them all as she'd walked down the short aisle to take her place on the front pew. Grissom had followed her five minutes later, his son held tightly in his right arm whilst he carried a single pink carnation in his left hand - extracted, Sara guessed, from the floral display at the entrance - which he'd placed almost reverently on top of his mother's casket. He'd silently taken a seat by her side, busied himself with settling Ben on his lap and only looked up again as the muted opening strains of Pachelbel's Canon in D sounded and a door opened off to the side, a cue to those seated that the service was finally getting underway.

He'd grabbed her hand halfway through the eulogy, his fingers weaving automatically between hers and she'd returned the grasp willingly, holding tightly through the rest of the service and only letting go again as everyone rose to leave.

She'd made a point of standing beside him at the graveside too, watching as Betty's coffin had been lowered into the ground and silently taking a handful of the proffered soil to scatter atop it. He'd felt for her hand again in that moment and Sara had accepted the touch without hesitation; she'd promised days earlier that she'd help him get through this ceremony and that was a promise she fully intended to keep.

But nothing had been said and no looks had been given at the conclusion of the service to give her even a glimmer of hope so she'd deliberately dawdled behind the others on the short stroll back towards the parking area and had slipped away from the group completely at the first possible opportunity that had presented itself.

Squinting in the bright midday sun, Sara came to a halt beside the Prius and felt briefly through her half-open purse for her sunglasses and her keys. She found the former easily enough and slipped them quickly into place but the key fob eluded her and, with her pent-up anger, frustration and disappointment bubbling to the surface, she thumped her bag down on the sedan's hood, unzipped it fully and reached inside for a more thorough search.

"Sara!"

The shout surprised her and she looked up quickly at the sound only to lower her gaze again and return to her task at the sight of Grissom wending his way purposefully through the car lot.

"Where are you going?" Coming to a halt a few feet back from the Toyota, he held his left hand protectively against his rib cage as he glanced curiously from his wife to her purse and back again. "I thought we were going to talk."

"I don't remember making that plan." Finding her keychain at last, Sara held it tightly in one hand as she zipped up her purse with the other. "Besides, I don't think there's any point, is there? It looks to me like you've made up your mind."

"I haven't made up anything." Annoyed at what he saw as an unwarranted supposition, Grissom frowned. "Look, I've just spent half my mother's funeral service trying to get all of this straight in my head, surely, the least you could do is give me an hour or two of your time."

"Won't you miss your flight?" Cringing inwardly at the sharpness of her tone, Sara narrowed her eyes as she studied the man before her. "I mean, I'd hate to be the one responsible for you not making it to the airport on time."

"Actually the flight's not until 5pm." Grissom chose to ignore the uncharacteristic fit of pique. "So, I'd probably still make it but I've cancelled that booking." His mouth quirked up in a small smile at the look of surprise that suddenly appeared on his wife's face. "We've got to get this sorted, Sara and, for both our sakes, I think we need to do that today."

"Okay." Taken aback, Sara stood stock-still and fingered her keys. "Um, where?" She shrugged. "I can follow you back to your mom's place if you like or-"

Grissom's eyes narrowed in question. "Do you have any objection to Jim driving your car?"

"Uh…" She frowned, not quite seeing any relevance to the question. "Not really, no."

"Good." With a grin, Grissom nodded decisively. "Because if we're going to get this mess settled than I think _everyone_ that's involved ought to be there, don't you?"

* * *

Stepping carefully off the curb in West Horizon Drive, Grissom kept one eye on the approaching traffic in the distance and the other on the two somewhat overly full plastic cups that he'd just picked up at Starbucks. The one in his left hand wasn't a particular problem but the one in his right, coupled as it was with the small paper sack he'd been given, seemed determine to dump at least some of its contents down his dry-clean only dress pants despite its apparently tightly coupled lid - a prospect he didn't particularly relish given the amount of milk and fresh fruit he'd seen going into the concoction.

He managed the crossing without mishap and made his way between his Murano and the older model van parked next to it in the small car lot that serviced Hidden Falls Park then, after skirting around the skate bowl and children's splash pads, crossed the large open grassed area to the small stand of trees on the other side. He stopped just before he got there though, the picture that greeted him filling him first with delight and then with a growing unease as he realised it might very well be both the first and last times that he witnessed such a sight.

Seated with her back against one of the Southern Live Oaks that edged the park, Sara had her shoes off and her knees raised making a more than adequate backrest for Ben as he drank from the bottle of formula she held for him. Even from a distance, Grissom could clearly see his son's eyes were locked on hers, his lips curling up happily around the teat in his mouth as she traced endless patterns around his chest and over his stomach that had him squirming occasionally as she ghosted over what was obviously a particularly ticklish spot.

He stood there, watching them, for almost a minute and it wasn't until Sara looked up, a grin spreading across her face at the sight of him that he realised he'd been holding his breath.

"That didn't take long." Keeping the bottle tilted at the right angle for Ben with one hand, she used the other to shade her eyes as she looked up at her husband. "I guess they weren't as busy as I thought they would be."

"No, there were only a couple of people in the queue." Stepping closer, Grissom held out his right hand. "There you go, one strawberry smoothie." He breathed a little easier as she eased both the cup and the bag from his hand. "And in there you'll find a blueberry muffin."

"You remembered!" Pulling open the bag, Sara sniffed appreciatively at the aroma within. "I'd hoped you would but-"

"Kind of hard to forget since I used to buy you one every time we came here." Mindful of his ribs, he eased himself down beside her then looked out of the rest of the park. "Remember how much Hank used to love this place?"

"Between tearing round the dog park with his four-legged friends and then pulling the two of us up the Amargosa trail afterwards…" Sara chuckled at the memory as she took the muffin from the bag and, pulled a small piece from the edge, popped it in her mouth. "God, I miss that dog."

"So do I." Grissom took a sip of the orange juice he'd bought himself. "That's one thing I want for Ben when we're finally settled somewhere; I want to make sure he grows up with a pet."

Pushing the bottle forcefully from his mouth, Ben turned his head towards his father with a wet grin and let fly with an enthusiastic "Ba!"

"Well, I guess someone's happy about that." Sara ran her finger over the little boy's bottom lip, wiping away a slight smear of milk, before she looked up again, her expression unreadable. "Do you want to file the divorce papers?"

"I don't know," Grissom told her honestly. "A big part of me really doesn't want to, it's screaming at me to destroy the damned things and just…" He sighed heavily. "Just concentrate on repairing our relationship and getting our lives back on track but there's another part that wonders just how feasible that's going to be."

"You're not talking about me and you now, are you?" Placing a protective hand on the baby's chest to keep him in place, Sara twisted slightly to get a better look at his father. "You're talking about me and Ben."

"I'm a little worried that you really don't know what you'd be getting yourself into." Grissom shrugged. "Up until now you've held him, you've sat with him, you've fed him but that's about it; are you really prepared for the rest?" Seeing her about to speak, Grissom held up a single restraining finger. "I'm not joking, Sara; he's noisy, destructive, messy and in ways you wouldn't even begin to believe. I've been peed on, vomited on, dribbled on, spat at and the less said about explosive diarrhoea the better." A single eyebrow arced up as he saw the expression on her face. "You think I'm exaggerating but, trust me on this, okay? If it can come from an orifice, it will and nine times out of ten, you'll be the one that ends up covered in it."

"You do remember that I work with dead bodies, right?" Sara asked somewhat facetiously. "When it comes to bodily fluids I really doubt that Ben has anything in his repertoire that's going to surprise me and, besides, you know about Joshua Phillips, right? David's son?"

"Of course." Grissom nodded. "We exchanged baby photos the other day at the morgue."

"Well, the very first time I held him no one thought to tell me that he'd only just been fed so I ended up spending the entire afternoon trying to get another woman's regurgitated breast milk out of my favourite sweater." She smiled disarmingly, knowing that she had this particular hurdle covered. "And the second time I held him he screamed holy murder from the moment he was in my arms until his father, thankfully, took him back again." She shrugged and smiled. "So, trust me, Gil, I am well aware of the perils of being around small children."

"It's fairly easy to deal with all of that when you can give them back to their parents." Grissom pointed out. "It's a completely different kettle of fish when you're stuck with the kid." His gaze dropped to his still feeding son. "Especially when he's not your own."

"You don't get it, do you?" Feeling a little exasperated, Sara rolled her eyes. "As far as I'm concerned he would be."

"And if we give it a go and it doesn't work out? How do you think you'd feel having a child you've grown to love taken away from you?"

"That's not going to happen." Sara was adamant. "We threw everything away once, Gil, that's more than enough for me; if we get back together now then, as far as I'm concerned, it's forever." She locked her eyes with his. "I won't accept anything less."

She breathed in deeply, pulling her gaze away from her husband and swinging it back towards the little boy sitting happily in her lap.

"Do you remember when I asked you if you wanted to have a child with me and you, more or less, said that the decision was mine?" She paused for a moment before continuing. "Well, I've made up my mind and _this…_ " Reaching out, she grasped Ben's hand and held on tight. "This is the child that I want."

"Are you positive?" Grissom's question was asked quietly and warily, his protective streak not quite ready to quash his initial scepticism.

"Absolutely!" Sara shook Ben's hand, the baby giggling happily at the attention. "I want him and I want his father." She looked back at Grissom. "More than I've probably ever wanted anything in my life."

Grissom stared at her for over a minute, looked deeply into her eyes – into her soul – and knew without a single doubt that she was telling the truth; there were no signs of nervousness or trepidation just a calm determination and a sense of confidence that told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

He took a deep cleansing breath in an effort to push down the relief and delight that swept through him at the realisation; after all, there were still some things that needed to be agreed upon.

"If we're going to do this then we're going to have to take things slowly." He changed position slightly, angling himself in order to see both Sara and his son. "Ben will need time to adapt to the changes and so will you and I."

"I can do slow." Sara assured him solemnly, her hopes rising by the second.

"And if he starts growing up thinking of you as his mother then that's a relationship that will have to survive any failure of ours."

"I've already told you that I would consider him my child and _that_ is something I would take very seriously so you don't have to worry on that score," she pointed out patiently. "And I promised that we weren't going to fail too, remember?"

"I'm just covering all the bases, that's all." Grissom held up his hands in a placatory gesture.

"Sensible but completely unnecessary." Sara smiled. "Anything else?"

"Just one more." Grissom returned the smile with one of his own. "At some time in the future I'm going to want you to adopt Ben. Melissa has already given up her parental rights for his sisters and I'm quite sure she'd prefer the two hundred dollars a month she pays in child support went down her throat anyway so I'm not anticipating any problems from her end." He paused for a moment, realising just how big a step he was asking her to take. "So…?"

"Given the circumstances," Sara didn't hesitate. "I think I would actually insist on it." She chuckled at the expression on his face. "I told you we're going to be a family, Gil and, by that, I mean a real one." She cocked her head, her smile widening playfully. "So… where do we go from here?"

"Well," Grissom frowned slightly as he thought. "Maybe we could head back to the house just now so Ben can have his nap and then later the three of us could go out and grab a meal; we could go to that Chinese place you used to like so much."

Sara couldn't help but laugh. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Kind of, yeah, I guess so." Suddenly nervous, Grissom almost blushed. "It won't be anything fancy, I know, but…" He shrugged self-consciously. "It'll be a start."

"Yes, it will." Unable to stop herself, Sara grinned happily at the invitation. "And yes, I'd love to come to dinner with the two of you." Reaching down, she took hold of Grissom's hand, squeezing it tightly at the same time she squeezed Ben's. "In fact, there's nothing in the world I'd like more."

 **The End**


	17. Epilogue

**OAKWOOD CLOSE**

 **~ Epilogue ~**

The kiss, when it came, was clearly a spur of the moment thing; swift yet tentative, Grissom captured her lips with his almost as soon as he'd helped her to her feet. Taken by surprise, Sara froze for a moment, the baby still held securely against her chest, before, in a move so natural that it seemed she'd been doing it forever, she effortlessly swung Ben onto her left hip, wrapped her free hand around the back of her husband's neck and deepened the kiss for all she was worth.

With the binoculars pressed tightly against his eyes, he watched the little soap opera playing out in the far reaches of the park with a mixture of fascination and distaste.

Relationships weren't for him, he'd tried going down that path once and it had ended so badly that he'd spent the years since seeking out the opposite sex only when he felt the need for a little companionship and a lot of relief. Higher class call girls were best for that, he'd found, you could book one for a specific time, meet up at a bar and, provided your credit card was valid, find yourself getting your rocks off with the minimum of fuss and bother fifteen minutes later. It had to be call girls though, never hookers, they were certainly good for some things but relatively safe anonymous sex certainly wasn't one of them.

Grissom and Sidle though were clearly different.

He'd always been good at reading people and, even all those years ago, the undercurrent of want and need had been strong between the two of them. He hadn't been at all surprised to discover that they had finally married, nor that they had turned their backs on Vegas to do so, but he had been surprised at just how quickly she came back to town alone and had begun wondering then, just how that separation was going to impact on his plans.

He'd been watching Sidle for a while now, following her from home to work and back again on numerous occasions in the hope that she'd lead him to her husband but she never had and it had only been a chance perusal of the obituary column in last week's Review-Journal that had tipped him off to the man's reappearance in town.

Lost for a moment in his musing, he shook his head, refocussed the field glasses and brought the two of them more clearly into view. He'd missed the end of the kiss, that much was clearly evident, for they stood now, foreheads together and eyes locked, in the way that only a couple who were intimately comfortable in each other's presence could manage. The child, still balanced on Sidle's hip and with his right arm hooked around hers, had reached out with his left hand and grasped his father's white shirt, bridging the gap between the couple even more than it already had been.

He was Grissom's son, there was no denying that, but he definitely wasn't hers, both the kid's age and the length of the couple's extended separation made that absolutely impossible but she was comfortable enough in her handling of him and accepting enough of the little bastard's presence that he was clearly going to have to factor it into his plan.

Pulling the binoculars from his face, he placed them down on the empty seat beside him, rubbed his weary eyes and smiled. It had been a long time coming but finally things were falling into place; after months of searching he'd located both his targets and, from what he'd just witnessed, keeping track of the two of them was about to get a whole lot easier.

He'd give them time before he initiated his plan though, he wasn't entirely heartless: time to pull the tattered remnants of their relationship back together, time to learn all about one another again after their time apart and time to relax and relish the comfort of family life and then, when they had, he'd get to work.

He glanced over once more but, without the aid of the binoculars, the three blurry figures in the distance could have been anyone. He saw one bend and lift something off the ground, the striped tote bag, he thought, it had to have been that for they'd carried nothing else over there with them, and that could only mean that they were preparing to leave. Just as he had to, he'd spent far too long in Vegas this time and simply couldn't chance the risk of hanging around any longer; it was time to go home.

Twisting the key in the old van's ignition, he gunned the engine for a moment until he was confident that it had caught, then wrestled the stick shift into reverse and slowly backed out of the parking space he'd occupied since they'd led him to this park. Now all he could do was keep his fingers crossed that the ancient vehicle would get him safely back to Calexico again.

It would be a long, hard three hundred mile journey but it was a drive he'd come to enjoy; the peace and quiet would give him time to work out exactly what it was he was going to do and, if everything continued to fall into place, the best time to do it. He wasn't going to rush this, he'd spent too much time and effort to do that and, after all, if there was one thing the past twelve years had taught him it was that he was a man of great skill and imagination and, not to mention, infinite patience.

* * *

 **A/N:** Two people I really need to thank are SylvieT for wading her way through every single word of this story and making it a whole lot better than it would have been and also JellybeanChiChi, she may not be hanging around FF any longer but I appreciate all the help and support she offered when this thing started. :)


End file.
